To End All Wars
by Trelawney's Love Toy
Summary: Adopted from Padfootjr24 HPBelgariad crossover. When Harry is attacked after the conclusion of his fifth year, he is thrown into a world not his own and is now bound to the conflicts of both worlds.
1. A world to Call Your Own

As many of you will no doubt know, this story was begun By Padfootjr24 but has since asked me to continue it, so here is chapter one.

**IMPORTANT NOTE: **This fic is a crossover soIf you have not read the series of books, The Belgariad, by David Eddings, this story may be hard for you to follow. I will try my best to explain all the important aspects of the story so that even if you haven't read it you will still be able to follow along but as of yet I don't know how successful I will be.

_**TO END ALL WARS**_

_**By**_

_**Padfootjr24**_

_**PART I: Belhaldar the Sorcerer**_

_**Chapter One: A World To Call Your Own**_

Nearly completely exhausted and barely standing, Harry looked around at the destruction engulfing all of Privet Drive around him with a detached sense of morbid curiosity. Everywhere he looked, bodies littered the streets and the perfectly manicured lawns and gardens as well as their respective houses went up in crimson flame while the Dark Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters scurried about this way and that. Allowing himself a brief glimpse at the remains of number four before shaking his head as he fought off a short burst of amusement. Even with so much life already taken and his own life still in great peril, Harry couldn't help chuckling slightly at the irony of the situation. This was where Professor Dumbledore had brought him all those years ago, this was where he was supposed to be safe.

"What do you find so amusing, Mr. Potter?" The young man in question turned slowly towards his lifelong enemy with his wand held loosely in his slightly damaged right hand.

"I was just thinking of the fact that the very wards that were supposed to protect me are now being used to block Dumbledore from even knowing that there was an attack. Despite the situation, I have to admit that I absolutely love the irony. Wouldn't you agree?" Harry replied in a mock conversational tone.

"Indeed." Voldemort acknowledged with a slight nod. Despite their casual manner both wizards were incredibly weary after nearly an hour of dueling, though Harry was more so due to his lack of experience and knowledge. For a man of almost seventy years of age the Dark Lord was quite agile and very quick to recover. The only thing that had thus far kept him from triumphing was Harry's willpower and determination. That was something Voldemort could not break no matter how hopeless that battle seemed to be and he was growing increasingly frustrated with it.

"You have shown a great deal of strength for one so young, Harry. But it is the same with animals really, they're at their most ferocious when they're overcome with fear." At the sudden look of confusion on Harry's face Voldemort smirked and elaborated. "Surprisingly, I have found it increasingly difficult to enter your mind since I took over your body at the Ministry of Magic, but standing here, looking into your eyes, your every emotion is revealed to me." He chuckled in amusement while his Death Eaters laughed. Everything about Harry, his stance, body language but especially his eyes, instantly grew a lot colder and the laughter around him ceased almost instantly.

"If you could read what was in my eyes, you would crawl underneath a rock and cry."

/Flashback/

Harry had returned from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry almost a month ago after completing his fifth year and taking his 'Ordinary Wizard Level' exams, or O.W.Ls. Surprisingly, he didn't find the tests all that difficult when compared to the horror stories the older students hoisted upon them to make them nervous for their own amusement. Unfortunately that simple refreshing fact was certainly not enough to pull his mind into focus after the events that played out in the Department of Mysteries. While it was true, they had stopped Voldemort once again, it had come at a heavy price.

While it was true that he had not known Sirius for that long a time and even then they were not in frequent contact with each other but the man had symbolized a slight hope for Harry that promised a better future, with a real family. Now, however, that was gone. All because he did not stop to think through the situation. While others, such as Snape and even Dumbledore, could certainly be blamed in part, he shouldered the majority of that responsibility for himself. The knowledge of the prophecy surely didn't help matters any either.

For the entirety of his summer thus far, he had kept his distance from his friends and those that he considered family. Not because he thought that they blamed him for Sirius' death or the injuries they had suffered at the hands of the Death Eaters or even because he had the misguided belief that they would be safer without him. No, what made him keep his distance was the fact that he really didn't have anything to say or if he did he simply didn't know how to express it. So for the first month of his summer vacation, Harry ignored the correspondence sent to him and had done little more than wander aimlessly around Little Winging as he sorted through his thoughts while trying to come to grips with all that had happened to lead him to this moment in time.

This rather stale and boring routine was brought to an abrupt halt on the eve of July twelfth. Harry was lying in his small bed staring blankly at the ceiling when the house around him jerked violently and a soft hum seemed to echo through the hallways followed by an intense pain piercing through his scar. It didn't take long for him to figure out that something was definitely wrong so without worrying about the consequences he drew his wand before shrinking his school trunk and picking up his broom, planning for a quick getaway. Thankfully, in Harry's opinion anyway, the Dursleys were out for the evening so he didn't need to worry about them should they be captured.

After switching off the light he moved over to the window where his fears were confirmed for down on the street was no less than seventy Death Eaters. He couldn't really see very well at the moment but he was pretty sure that Voldemort himself was present as well. Motioning for Hedwig to remain silent he eased his window open until there was enough room for the beautiful owl to fly out, which she promptly did. By some stroke of luck no one seemed to notice her departure so Harry opened the window to its full extent before mounting his broom and taking off like a bat out of hell. Unfortunately, his luck did not hold as well as Hedwig's. Before he had fully cleared the window spells were flying at him in a seemingly endless barrage that no one, no matter how good a flyer they were, could avoid. A well aimed severing charm sliced straight through his broom handle, sending him crashing into his Aunt's flower bed as numerous Death Eaters converged on him as the others spread out to have their fun with his neighbors.

/End Flashback/

"So Mr. Potter, shall we continue or would you like to rethink my offer?" Voldemort sneered after taking a moment to shake off the boy's previous statement. Most of the Death Eaters that had returned from their 'pillaging' and were now watching their Master defeat the 'Boy-Who-Lived' were shocked by his words. No one had **ever** been given a second chance to join his ranks after they had first refused. It was unheard of. Breathing heavily, Harry sucked himself up and spat a significant amount of blood at the Dark Lord's feet as his emerald green eyes blazed with hatred. Voldemort looked down at the pavement in front of him before raising his cold stare once more.

"_So be it!"_ He hissed as he snapped his wand back up. _"Haevel Cryqua Um Topi Volo". _Harry had no idea what spell Slytherin's heir had used but the way he enunciated the words it certainly didn't sound friendly and the brown tinted light that shot out from his wand did nothing to sooth those feelings. As he prepared to dive out of the way, Harry was shocked into stupidity when two Death Eaters burst through the ring of Voldemort's followers and began firing curse after curse at their Master. It was not the action itself that had shocked the boy but rather the voices. Voices he knew all too well.

Severus Snape's roll as a spy among Voldemort's ranks was no secret to him although he had his reservations about the man and his true loyalties. His position made him extremely valuable to the Order as an information resource so it was only natural for Harry to wonder why the man effectively blew his cover in a futile attempt to save him. After all, there was certainly no love lost between the two of them.

As surprised as he was to find Snape coming to his rescue, the second Death Eater was a shock on the scale of a nuclear disaster. That was a voice he would never forget for as long as he lived, however long that may be. He had heard it every day and every night since school let out and he didn't imagine it would get better any time soon. Harry just had time to gasp in shock before the brown light of Voldemort's curse overwhelmed him and darkness took hold. That voice belonged to none other than one Bellatrix Black Lestrange.

MMM

Severus Snape was panting hard and clutching his side as he burst into the kitchen at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The room was nearly packed with members of the Order of the Phoenix as they held one of their weekly meetings. By the look of things nothing much had been discussed as they were waiting for him to return after he was summoned by his 'Master' earlier that afternoon.

Most within the kitchen jumped as he slammed through the doors but never got a chance to relax when they noticed the shape he was in and the look on his face. Molly Weasley instantly stood up and rushed over to him, intent on checking over any wounds he had suffered but he just pushed right passed her.

"Severus, wha…"

"QUIET!" Snape immediately cut Albus Dumbledore off as the aged wizard stood looking at him in concern. "The Dark Lord has attacked Privet Drive." He gasped out but continued when Dumbledore paled before he started issuing orders. "No, there is nothing you can do, they are already gone. We must alert the Ministry so that they can clean the area up as best they can, perhaps send Shacklebolt ahead so that we will know immediately if they find anything." Dumbledore nodded solemnly before sending Kingsley and Tonks to Privet Drive and having Moody inform the Ministry.

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Molly began sobbing and demanding to know what had happened and whether or not Harry was still alive but he said nothing as he sank into a nearby chair. Bill, wide eyed and pale, led his mother back over to her seat where he held her close. Looking around the room, the potions master could see clearly that many of the people around him were in almost the same state as the Weasley matriarch. Even the Headmaster looked to be on the verge of tears as he turned to him.

"What happened, Severus?" He asked quietly. Snape shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as pain shot through his side.

"The Dark Lord felt that this afternoon's meeting was vital enough that he summoned ALL of his Death Eaters to attend."

"All of them?" Mundungus Fletcher asked stupidly. "Has he ever done that before?"

"No, he hasn't. Since his first bid for power he has always been careful to keep any of his followers from knowing just how many of them there were and who they were so that if they were captured or turned on him they couldn't give away all of his loyal followers. So you could imagine our surprise when everyone was gathered but the reason was quickly revealed. The Dark Lord explained that he had worked through the wards surrounding Potter's home and he wanted all of us to participate in the attack since it was Potter that had dealt serious blows to our cause over the years. As a precaution, the meeting room was sealed until the attack began so that he would be certain that any spies within his ranks couldn't get off a message to warn the Ministry or the Order. He went on to say that no one was to harm Potter, that he had something special planned for him."

"So Harry may still be alive?" Remus choked out hopefully as he looked at the head of Slytherin with pleading eyes. Snape, shockingly enough, looked remorseful.

"From what I know, the boy is alive, but you will not be able to reach him. The Dark Lord claimed that death was too good for Potter, personally, I think he was frightened of killing him."

"Frightened, why would he? He has been trying to kill him for years." Arthur nearly shouted in frustration at not knowing where the boy he looked at as one of his own sons was or what shape he was in.

"Look at their history. The first time he tried to kill him he was cast out of his body. When he regained his body he should have been able to kill the boy without a second's thought but some freak occurrence allowed him to escape. You, Albus, led Potter to believe that the Priori Incantatum that essentially saved his life was a very common occurrence when two brother wands face each other but we both know, as does the Dark Lord, that even then the chance of that happening is one in a million. Then, just last month, he had the boy's mind and soul in his grasp and it should have taken some of the strongest exorcism spells known to man to cast him out yet Potter managed to do it on his own. That shouldn't be possible. With these three acts in mind, I repeat my belief that the Dark Lord is now afraid or paranoid about trying to kill him again. He's worried about what could happen but he couldn't let him continue getting in the way of his plans so he managed to come up with another solution.

"The attack was rather simple. The Dark Lord led the first group and the second, which I was a part of, portkeyed in forty five minutes later so that if the Ministry or the Order detected the attack we could take them by surprise and support the forces already present. From what I understand, Potter was captured just after they arrived and he apparently dueled the Dark Lord for a great deal of time before he was just too exhausted to continue. At that point Who-Know-Who used a spell he had apparently been waiting to use for a great deal of time. I'm not sure where he found the spell but he claimed that it would send Potter to another world altogether, so that he could live with the knowledge that everyone and everything he cared about would soon be destroyed." Absolute silence greeted his words as everyone looked at him in varying states of shock, confusion and horror as they realized what must have happened to the Boy-Who-Lived. Almost immediately Molly was on her feet again shouting at Snape for not preventing it and it was clear that many others shared her ire. Most in the room winced and covered their ears as she screamed but Snape was quickly growing absolutely furious.

"**SILENCE!"** He bellowed as he jumped back to his feet, taking no notice of his injuries. "I forcefully broke through dozens of Death Eaters and attacked the bloody Dark Lord himself trying to prevent this. How many of you would have done the same? When the spell hit and the boy vanished we portkeyed out to safety like any reasonable person would. I risk my life every day gathering information and making contacts while the rest of you sit around sipping tea and having meetings, _pretending_ to be doing something important, so who the hell are you to criticize me and how I do my work?"

"We?" Dumbledore asked quickly, partly because he was curious about the reference but mostly because he wanted to steer the topic of conversation to a 'safer' topic. Snape's standing in the Order has always been called into question due to his poor attitude towards others as well as the belief of some that he never really left Voldemort's service.

"Excuse me?" Snape asked as he looked at the old man as if he were crazy, and rightfully so. After all, who would interrupt an argument like that with a simple one word question that didn't seem to make any sense.

"You said 'when the spell hit and the boy vanished WE portkeyed out to safety'. I was just wondering who the other person was or was it more than one?" The Headmaster asked with a very slight twinkle in his eye that did not go unnoticed by the younger man he was questioning. Feeling quite smug about the shock he was about to see on his mentor's face he didn't hesitate a second before answering.

"It was Bellatrix." If it wasn't for his pride Snape would be dancing around the room right now at the historical reaction he received from his employer and friend. Dumbledore simply looked thunderstruck, there was no other word for it. He regarded the younger man with wide eyes and an open mouth with his shattered tea cup laying in pieces on the floor beside him. And the rest of the room wasn't much better. Seeing this as an opportunity, as well as amusing, Snape decided to explain while everyone was still speechless so that he would have to fight through all the arguments before they actually got to the point.

As he had suspected, the possibility that Snape was a traitor was well known within Voldemort's inner circle so after the meeting that afternoon and after the Dark Lord had left to begin the attack, Bellatrix had decided to take a chance and confront him. Apparently spending what should have been the prime of her life in Azkaban had changed her thinking around a bit but yet it wasn't enough to push her away from the pureblood ideals she had been raised with enough to get her to risk her life by turning on Voldemort. That happened during the attack in the Department of Mysteries, when she killed Sirius. She claimed it was an accident, that she never meant for him to fall through the veil and Snape believed her. After all, the man is a master of Legilimency, he would know the moment someone was trying to deceive him.

"How do you know she isn't lying, trying to gain your confidence so that she could gain information?" Amos Diggory snapped loudly.

"Besides the fact that I would know if she was lying? Well you can question her yourself." He began with a sneer before finishing in an offhand manner.

"Excuse me?"

"She's waiting outside for Albus to let her in. She's surrendering herself to the Order. She will answer any questions you have before she is sent back to Azkaban. Her only condition is that she be placed in the low security wing where they receive much better food and conditions and there is far less exposure to the Dementors. Added surveillance of the area is expected of course due to the risks she could pose if she were to change her mind."

MMM

Harry groaned to himself and gripped the sides of his head as he began to come around. If the soreness of his body was anything to go by, it would seem that he had somehow cheated death once again. But whether or not he was still within the madman's grasp was another question all together. As soon as he opened his eyes he could clearly see that he wasn't anywhere near Privet Drive any longer as he saw the wide expanse of a clear night's sky stretching as far as the eye could see. The glow and warmth of a small fire flickered over the small area and the slight sound of movement clearly told him that he was not alone. His body stiffened slightly as he tried to figure out what to do. While it was possible that he was in no immediate danger, there was an even greater chance that he was. As good as Snape might be, he had no chance rescuing him from Voldemort and the dozens of Death Eaters that were surrounding him. At this thought he suddenly remembered the second voice that he had heard and gasped quietly to himself. He tried to cut the sound off almost as soon as it had escaped him but apparently he didn't do to good a job.

"Its about time you woke up, boy. If it had taken any longer I probably would have left you here to find your own way, as the rest of us had to." The voice was old but clearly powerful if not slightly slurred. Coming to the conclusion that he had no other alternative, Harry winced as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. Due to the bright glow of the fire in front of him he couldn't see much of anything more than ten feet away but he got the impression that he was in the middle of some vast plain.

Focusing on the only other person present who was sitting off to his right Harry thought for a brief moment that the man was Dumbledore before the finer details registered and that idea was cast aside with force. While the two men shared a great deal of physical similarities, white hair and beards aside, the differences were immense. The biggest difference was their sense of bearing. While Dumbledore constantly looked as though he were sitting in a meeting with the Queen, dressed in the finest robes, of an odd assortment of colors but fine nonetheless, this man lounged back against a log casually as he drank from some sort of old fashioned wineskin while wearing a patched and stained tunic and hose combination, making him look like some drunken fourteenth century peasant.

Although the Headmaster was incredibly old, even for a wizard, he always projected an aura of unmatched power. However, this man just, felt, to be much older than Dumbledore and although at the moment he seemed to be little more than an old drunk, Harry had no doubt that he could give Dumbledore a good match if not beat him entirely.

"Where are we and why are we here?" Harry asked carefully since he had no idea who this man was or who his loyalties belonged to. The old man looked at him for a brief moment before belching and sighing in contentment.

"We are in what is now southern Algaria, just north of the Vale. And **I** am here because my Master instructed me to come here and collect you. Imagine my surprise when you just appeared out of thin air. As to why **you** are here, I have no idea, I was hoping you could tell me." Harry immediately became very suspicious of the man when he mentioned his 'Master' since that he knew of only Voldemort demanded his followers refer to him as such but yet this man just didn't seem the type to be a Death Eater.

"Well who are you and who is your Master?" The man looked momentarily surprised at Harry's narrowed eyes and the suspicion in his voice.

"Aldur is my Master. I am his first disciple, Belgarath." Even through his surprise and confusion at the man's answer he could still see that he was hoping for some form of reaction from one of, if not both, of the names. But to his confusion he was met by more confusion.

"Right." Harry responded slowly.

TBC

I will be posting a chapter every day or two until all seven completed chapters are up while I work on finishing off what Padfootjr gave me of chapter eight, so, I hope this has caught your interest and it becomes one of your favorites.


	2. Realizations and a History Lesson

_**TO END ALL WARS**_

_**By**_

_**Padfootjr24**_

_**Chapter Two: Realizations and a History Lesson**_

"Alright, Belgarath, why is your Master, Alpo or whatever his name is, so interested in me?" Harry snapped irritably. Despite the fact that the older man displayed no outward signs of hostility, Harry was in absolutely no mood to play nice. He was only momentarily surprised when the man laughed uproariously at the obviously intended mistake in his master's name. Apparently he wasn't nearly as fanatic as most Death Eaters.

"Well, aren't you a cranky one. I'm sure you will get along great with Beldin. But as I said before, I don't know why you are here and I don't presume to know what my master wants with you. All I was told was that you are called Harry Potter, rather strange name that is," Harry had to raise an eyebrow at that comment. Honestly, a man named Belgarath had no business calling anyone's name strange, especially a rather ordinary one like Harry. "And that you knew little, if anything, of what was going on in the world today. I assume he will let us know why you are here when we arrive in the Vale."

"What do you mean, 'I know nothing of the world today? I know a lot about the world." Harry argued stubbornly. He despised people, especially people he had never met, making assumptions of his capabilities, or lack there of.

"Really?" Belgarath asked doubtfully. He had never known an instant where his master was wrong in such cases. "Then tell me, what is going on in the world today?"

"In what context, the world is a big place?"

"Lets make it simple then, how about here?"

"I already told you, I don't even know where here is." Harry shouted in frustration.

"I already told you that, this is southern Algaria."

"I've never even heard of Algaria. Wait a minute, you told me that this was 'now southern Algaria'. What was it called before?"

"Aloria! I can see by your confused expression that the name means absolutely nothing to you. Now, given the history of the world, especially the last few thousand years, when you find someone that has never heard of Aldur, Belgarath or the kingdom of Aloria, that boy, in other words you, is clearly not a person who is well informed. Now, since we have a few hours before sunrise and I have answered your questions as best I could, would you care to tell me how I got saddled with such a simpleton?" Surprisingly, Harry didn't get angry at the man's mocking tone but instead grew thoughtful and decided to try something.

"Tell me, when I say the words Rome, Merlin and the United States, what comes to mind?" Harry asked with a sinking feeling and those feelings seemed to be justified when the man looked at him like he was completely insane. He might not have ever heard of Belgarath, Aldur or Aloria before but it seemed like this man had never heard of the most powerful wizard to ever live, the largest empire of the ancient world or the most powerful nation in the world today.

"Bloody hell!" He muttered as he lay back down and stared up at the sky.

"Oh dear!" It would seem Belgarath had come to the same conclusion as him. "Well this should certainly be interesting." He muttered before leaning over to rifle through the sack that was sitting not far from him. In no time he managed to find a piece of parchment but had to rely on a piece of charred wood from the fire for a writing instrument.

"Tell me, Harry Potter, before you woke up here what was the last thing you remember?" Suddenly in the place of the old drunk was an efficient scholar who was used to finding the source of a problem. Harry groaned as he suddenly remembered people like Hermione, Dumbledore and even Remus and he knew that he was going to get no peace until this man exhausted every possibility and found the answer despite the fact that his Master apparently knew said answers and they were going to see him anyway. He wanted to solve this mystery for himself.

"I was at home and a powerful wizard and his followers attacked…"

"Wait, did you say wizard? So they use the Will and the Word where you come from?" Belgarath interrupted as he looked on with interest.

"Um, the what?"

"Using one's willpower to achieve a certain end as opposed to doing it physically. Much like this." He stated before looked towards the campfire. Harry heard him whisper something softly but he couldn't make it out and almost instantly the fire died before just as inexplicably reigniting. Harry's eyes went wide for a few moments as he stared at the flames. He had only seen Dumbledore use wandless magic a few times for simple things but the way Belgarath said it, it seemed that he needed no magical focus at all to do anything.

"Ah, we don't do it quite like that. We use wands mostly."

"Wands, what's a wand?" He asked curiously. Almost instantly Harry began to panic as he looked all around him. The last thing he needed was to be stranded in an unknown environment without any means of defense. Belgarath looked on in confusion as the boy began crawling around in circles running his hands through the grass. He could clearly see that the boy was agitated and he could understand given his position but why he felt the need to root around in the grass was beyond him. After a few minutes, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers came into contact with the smooth finish of his wand.

"Now what is so special about that?" Belgarath asked irritably. When it became clear that Harry was looking for something that was obviously important, he had stood up to assist hoping that it would be some strange and unusual device that he had never seen before but now he was very disappointed and annoyed that the object of his attention was a mere stick.

"This is a wand." Harry explained in his relief.

"That is a stick!" Belgarath corrected. To prove his point Harry waved his wand and extinguished the campfire once more before reigniting it. He looked at the old man rather smugly only to find him rubbing the sides of his head.

"Do you have any idea how much noise that made?"

"What, I only said the incantation, what other noise could there have been other than what's coming from the fire itself?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Never mind that now." He said as he stepped closer to Harry. "Now, I want you to do that a few more times, keep doing it until I tell you to stop."

"Why?"

"Because I want to see how your body is channeling that, now do it." Harry just nodded in confusion and did as the man said. Meanwhile, Belgarath extended his mind so that he could see exactly what was taking place. He was greatly surprised as he sensed the power in the 'stick' but quickly overcame his curiosity to get to the point of this little exercise and in no time he had what he needed and pulled back and told the boy to stop. Silently he went back to his spot and sat down and took a long drink out of his wineskin to help relieve his growing headache.

"Alright, what was that all about?" Harry asked after the two sat in silence for nearly an hour. He could clearly see that the man was in no mood for talk so he waited until he had a proper amount of time to think about whatever conclusions he had come to. Belgarath sighed and rolled his head for a moment before standing up and walking back over to Harry.

"First of all," He began as he leaned over and snatched Harry's wand away from him. "You will not use this again and before you say or do anything idiotic, let me explain a few things to you." Harry was caught off guard by the grim seriousness of the man's voice and expression after seeming so carefree since he awoke so he wisely chose to remain silent as the man sat back down.

"Now, what I do is use my will to manipulate the energy around me. What this 'wand' is and what you do is some bastardized version of the same thing. The vast majority of the people in the world will never be able to accomplish such things but what you need to understand is that when we use this ability it makes a sound. Not the ordinary sounds someone can hear with their ears but people like me will hear it within our minds. As you get more practice and depending on your ability you can lessen the noise but this abomination you call a wand can give your position away to every Grolim on the continent doing even the simplest of tasks, and you can guarantee that they will take considerable interest. So for the remainder of your time here you will learn to use your will without the use of this crutch."

"Crutch?"

"Yes, because that is what it is. It focuses your will and intent into the proper channels for you so that your mind does not have to. I'm sure this method has its advantages in a few areas but that means nothing if every time you use it your enemies can learn where you are. Now, just in case you get it in your head to start trying immediately remember one thing above all else. It is called the Will and the Word for a reason. We gather our will and speak the word that will release it. Everything in this universe was created for a reason and nothing can be unmade, the universe will not allow you to destroy what she created on a whim so when you gather your will forget that you ever knew what destroy, disappear, be not, go away or any variation or combination of those terms mean because if that is your intent your power will be reflected back onto you and you will be completely wiped out of existence. Now do you have any questions thus far?"

"Um," Harry began stupidly as he tried to grasp everything that the old man had told him. He was preparing to demand how he expected him to master wandless magic before something else came to mind. "What's a Grolim?"

"Grolims are the priests of Torak, the Dragon God of the Angaraks." Harry suddenly burst out in a fit of laughter at the man's answer, thinking it was the funniest thing he had heard in an awfully long time.

"This guy has actually convinced people he was a god? I've met some egotistical people in my time but that is too much." Belgarath rolled his eyes and sighed at the boy's reaction. Dealing with atheists was so trying sometimes but when coupled with the fact that he had no knowledge of the world this was shaping up to be a very irritating conversation.

"Torak has no reason or need to convince anyone that he is a god for that is exactly what he is."

"Alright, can I get a direct flight back to reality now, or do I have to change planes in Denver?" Harry asked sarcastically. If his theory was correct, Belgarath would have no idea what a plane was or where Denver was located but judging by the glare on the old man's face he clearly understood the basic meaning behind his words and was certainly not impressed.

"Here is the short, condensed version of the history of the world, boy, so pay attention." Belgarath went on to explain that the world was created by seven gods and each chose a people to be their own to guide and protect. Belar chose the Alorns, Issa the Nyissans, Torak the Angaraks, Chaldan the Arends, Nedra chose the Tolnedrans, and Mara chose the Marags. Unlike his brothers, Aldur chose to remain alone and claimed a lush valley called the Vale to call his home where he studied the world they had created in his solitude.

Over time, however, seven men had been drawn to the Vale and to Aldur by some inexplicable force. Belgarath was the first and after years of study became Aldur's first Disciple. The others, known as Belzeder, Alorn twins called Beltira and Belkira. Belmakor, Belsambar and finally Beldin found their way to the Vale over the course of several centuries. Each man mastered the use of the Will and the Word and under the tutelage of Aldur learned from all things around them and at his instance focused their studies on themselves and other people as much as the wider world. As a result these seven men had a deeper understanding of human nature than anyone else short of the gods themselves.

They lived a relatively peaceful existence until Aldur's brother Torak visited the Vale for the first and only time. For many centuries Aldur had focused his mind on studying a small blue stone that has since been referred to as the Orb of Aldur. The god's seven disciples had no idea of the true nature of the stone but the power it possessed was unmistakable, Belzeder in particular was extremely curious about the orb so naturally when their master called them together to tell them that his brother Torak had stolen the orb he was by far the most agitated. Sadly, Aldur was forced to send the seven out of the Vale into the lands of his brothers' to advise them of the situation and the plans for war were quickly put into place. It took a great deal of time but soon the massive armies of the gods marched into the lands of the Angaraks.

At that point in the world's history warfare was rather primitive in the fact that no one really knew how they were supposed to go about it, so it was during this war that many of the more recognizable weapons and tactics were developed. The most devastating of these advances was siege engines and catapults that were developed by Belmakor and Beldin. Though it was Belsambar's idea to use fire as projectiles. An idea that would ultimately lead to his death.

Belsambar was an Angarak, and as such he had suffered greatly at the hands of the priests of Torak. Unlike his brothers, Torak demanded blood sacrifices from his people and Belsambar's parents were sacrificed on the alter while he was made to watch. As a result he had rejected all forms of religion and all gods until the day he found himself in Aldur's presence. His real name was something that most people could never hope to pronounce so Aldur renamed him Sambar both to make things easier and as a sign that his former life of pain and fear was over. It was a simple thing really but one that meant a great deal to Sambar. After his studies had progressed, Bel, meaning beloved, was added to his name and, like his new brothers, he wept the first time Aldur called him Belsambar.

Due to his early life, Belsamber took a great deal of satisfaction in this war, as he saw ALL Angaraks who blindly follow Torak as being responsible for the pain he had suffered as a child but when the Angarak towns and cities burned he felt just as much, if not more, horror as everyone else at what he had allowed to happen. In the end, their armies had Torak and his Angaraks nearly surrounded at the mountains of Korim with a five to one advantage and soon the slaughter began. They had hoped to force Torak to return the Orb to Aldur to save his people but what they got was something a lot worse than any war could possibly be. In his desperation to save what was left of his people, never once considering returning what he had stolen, he raised the Orb and joined his power with the power carried by the stone and literally cracked the world, making a fissure miles wide.

The resulting explosion was of catastrophic proportions as the cool water from the sea flowed into the monstrous crack and into the molten rock flowing up from the planet's core. More than half of mankind was wiped out in an instant and those that survived the explosion had to run for their lives as water flooded the area, drowning all in its path. The other six gods acted quickly and joined together to raise the level of the ground so that they could contain the sudden influx of water and to protect the lives of as many as they could. The result was a new mountain range the held back this new sea. All who survived this event, Belgarath included, would wake up in a cold sweat and trembling at the memory of that terrible day for the rest of their lives.

The only thing that saved the Angaraks that day was the fact that they were now on the east side of this new sea while their enemies were on the west because their god was in no condition to give them aid should they need it. When he raised the Orb and used it to crack the world the Orb retaliated against him and the blue flame that burst forth from it burned away his left hand and scorched his face while his left eye boiled away in its socket. Almost immediately Torak had thrown himself off the mountain and into the sea he had just created in the hopes of relieving his pain, but it was all for naught. The gods were created without the ability to heal because they can't be harmed so what good would it do. As a result the wounds he suffered that day so long ago are still burning him today. His eye still boils behind the polished steel mask that he now wears to cover his once beautiful face and he will never escape the pain.

"Alright, I'm following so far but you said that the gods were 'created', who or what has the power to create gods?"

"The gods were born from the combined will of the Universe and UL, the father of the gods. He now watches over the Ulgos. UL objected to his sons' plans to form this world and so he remained apart, even more so than my Master did. When they were first creating the different creatures to inhabit the world their first creations were not very seemly so they wanted to destroy them and start over but UL forbid them from doing so. Nothing in the universe can be unmade, this is a law that even the gods must follow. Being relatively young, by their standards, and a bit petulant, the gods sent these creatures to UL for him to care for."

"Ok but when you began you never mentioned the Ulgos, who are they and why didn't one of the other gods choose them?" Harry of course was very skeptical about the truth of this story but he was very interested nonetheless.

"There were many races of men that were not chosen, these people were labeled as the godless ones. The Ulgos where among these people. The other godless ones turned their attention to other things, whether it be their studies, building great works of architecture or even the worship of demons like the people of the Morindim or the Karands but the Ulgos wanted a god and so one of their leaders, a man named Gorim, went out in search of UL. It took him many years but he eventually found the father of the Gods and after a very long time eventually convinced him to take them as his own. When Gorim returned to his people with news of his success they were naturally overjoyed but a small portion of their number didn't believe him and refused to follow him to see UL.

"After living so long without a god, Gorim and many others were outraged at their blatant disregard and so he cursed them to whither away and led his people to the mountains where UL awaited them. As Gorim was the new religious leader of his new people, UL chose to honor and enforce Gorim's curse and those that remained behind eventually died out."

"What happened to them?"

"Gorim met UL not all that long before I was born so the curse was already well in place. When I was a young man and left the village of my birth I stopped in a camp where I was welcomed. Everyone there was quite old and they dotted on me as if they hadn't seen a child in years. Naturally I found it to be a little creepy and soon left. It wasn't until several years later when I traveled to Ulgoland for my Master that I realized they were what was left of those cursed by Gorim. The curse prevented them from ever having children and so they slowly died off."

"Alright, I have only one more question before you continue. If this UL and the Universe created the gods, who created them?"

"UL created the Universe but UL simply IS. Nothing created him, he has always existed, long since before time began." Belgarath answered before moving on. Apparently the only notable thing that happened in the next two thousand years, aside from setting certain things in motion for their Master, were the Deaths of both Belmakor and Belsambar. Belsambar was the first to go, consumed with grief of the death and destruction he had caused to his own people, with his fire laden catapults, he destroyed himself by gathering his will and turning it onto himself. Despite being raised in an incredibly harsh and violent society he was actually a very gentle person and he couldn't live with himself with the pain he had caused. He held himself responsible for their advantages during the war and thus he held himself responsible for Torak using their Master's Orb to crack the world.

The reason for Belmakor's death was still a complete mystery to them, although they had their suspicions. For the time after the cracking of the world Belmakor, Beldin and Belzeder spent a great deal of time in Mallorea, the continent on the eastern side of the new sea, now called the Sea of the East. During the war Torak saw the advantages his enemies had due to his brother's seven disciples so he decided to take three of his own and Beldin was hell bent on finding out who they were, and if possible, kill them. Belmakor spent time among the godless ones, his own people, learning about the advances they had made over the centuries. Belzeder however was in Mallorea because he was possessed with the need to recover their Master's Orb from Torak and spent his time planning for its retrieval.

Belmakor rarely came back to the Vale over the next centuries and when he did he was increasingly depressed and refused to speak about what was bothering him. Finally, however, it was too much for him and he followed Belsambar's example.

"Alright, lets skip ahead a bit now. Thirteen years ago I was in the Vale when the king of the Alorns, Cherek Bearshoulders, and his sons, Riva Irongrip, Algar Fleetfoot, and Dras Bullneck, came to see me." Belgarath raised an eyebrow when Harry began laughing once more. "Yes, that's an Alorn custom. When a man reaches maturity they add a physical description of them to their name. Alorns are warriors and I think they do it only because they think it impresses people. Anyway, they came to me in the middle of winter with a plan to cross the ice in the northern reaches of the Sea of the East into Mallorea. They intended to seek out Torak and retrieve the Orb and they wanted my help. At the time I had no intention of leaving the Vale but my Master instructed me to accompany them. I certainly didn't want to be there so I took it out on the four Alorns every chance that I got. Up north we had a bit of trouble with the Morindim that we dealt with but I soon discovered that the attacks were the work of someone else.

"In his time in Mallorea, Beldin discovered the identities of two of Torak's disciples. Urvon, who is a petty schemer although fairly powerful, and Ctuchik who thrives off the fear and pain he inflicts on others. But he was unable to discover the identity of the third although he had heard rumors that he wasn't even an Angarak but rather a man from the west. Well on that day I proved that rumor true when I overheard one of the Morindim magicians speaking with the third disciple. I'm sure you could imagine my surprise when I discovered it to be one of my brothers, Belzeder. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to tear the man apart for betraying us but I was prevented from doing so." Harry sighed as he thought about that. He couldn't possible comprehend what that information had done to the old man and his other brothers. A man they had spent thousands of years with turning on them like that.

"Anyway, long story short, we got to Mallorea and made our way to Cthol Mishrak, the city Torak resided in. He had basically isolated himself there in an iron tower where he kept the Orb. He could no longer touch it, no one could, but he wanted it near by."

"Why couldn't anyone touch it?"

"Because, according to my Master, after Torak used it to crack the world it would never again allow itself to be used by someone that would use it with selfish or malicious intent. Even some of the best men in the world would surely think about using its power for their own gain and as soon as the thought entered their head the Orb would strike them down. But lets get back on track.

"Lets see, where was I? Oh yes, we arrived in Cthol Mishrak and made it to the tower undetected so it was relatively easy to get inside and while Torak was in a forced sleep we argued a bit on who was going to take the Orb because none of us wanted to get killed. In the end Riva, who even today has an innocent childlike quality to him, picked it up and we got the hell out of there. We had a bit of trouble making it back to this continent but we all survived. Unfortunately not long after we got back to the west I was visited by my Master and while my Alorn companions were asleep he gave me some instructions.

"Aloria was to be broken up into four separate kingdoms as part of a defense for the Orb. When Riva picked it up it bonded with him to an extent so he and his offspring would be its protectors. Right now we are in Algaria and Algar Fleetfoot is king, north of here is Drasnia led by Dras Bullneck. To the east of Drasnia is Cherek, where Bearshoulders still rules and Riva took the Orb to the Isle of the Winds south west of Cherek. Naturally Bearshoulders was upset about breaking up his kingdom and sending his sons away but it was a necessity. The biggest piece of news he gave me however is probably one of the most important acts in our history. The gods, who had always walked amongst us since we were first created, were leaving this world.

"If they had remained they would have eventually been forced to confront their brother directly and a clash between gods would have destroyed all of creation. Though he returns every now and then, our Master speaks to us through our dreams where it will not attract Torak's attention. The fact that he is going to be here, physically, to see you leaves me with the belief that you are to play an integral part in what is to come."

"BELGARATH!" Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the loud harsh voice coming up behind him. Belgarath blinked stupidly at the speed Harry used to jump to his feet and spin around but he quickly got over that and turned to the new arrival. "What the devil have you been doing out here to cause that much noise? Have you taken leave of your senses completely?" Harry stared in surprise at the um, man, in front of him. He looked almost apelike with long muscular arms that hung down to his knees and legs the size of tree trunks. He was a few inches shorter than Harry himself and he was slumped over a bit with a large lump on his back. His face was hideously deformed with a long matted white beard that had leaves, twigs, and even bits of food tangled up in it. The cloths he was wearing were patched in some places and torn in others but the whole bit was covered in stains and even caked on mud and grime. On a whole if it wasn't for the leather thongs wrapped around his legs the man's pants would have fallen apart in an instant.

"Is this him?" The deformed man asked sharply as he turned his eyes to Harry. "Doesn't look like much, does he? A bit on the scrawny side." The man's words instantly shook Harry out of his stupor and his eyes narrowed.

"A slimy, greasy little troll like you has no business criticizing the appearance of others." Harry snapped back angrily. Naturally he was a bit surprised when the dwarf chuckled a bit at Harry's response before turning back to Belgarath.

"I might enjoy having him around. Polgara's tongue is getting a little to sharp for me to stay ahead of her consistently."

"Well she lived with you for years so what did you expect. When I returned to the Vale the last thing I expected to find was your attitude and language coming from her." The old man sighed before shaking his head to clear it. Apparently whoever this Polgara woman was lashed out at Belgarath a great deal.

"Harry Potter, this is my brother Beldin. He is a nasty sort of creature but he tends to grow on you after a few centuries. And about that noise you heard…" Belgarath went on to explain to his 'brother' that they believed that Harry had been brought from another world and what had happened concerning Harry's wand and like Belgarath had done, after he saw it used, looked upon the piece of wand as if it were some abomination, though he did express a desire to study it but his brother refused to let him anywhere near it until he was done with it. Harry watched the two old men argue over studying his wand before walking over to the two and snatching it out of Belgarath's hand.

"Do you have a knife?" He asked in an annoyed tone as the two focused their attention on him. Belgarath looked confused for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and digging one out of his bag. Harry took the knife and walked over to the rock Belgarath had been sitting against where he placed the blades edge against the tips of his wand and with a sigh he began tapping it against the rock. The blade slowly dug into the wands tip and it was in far enough Harry twisted it slowly so that the wood would splinter, hopefully leaving the core intact. Both Beldin and Belgarath looked horrified at the blatant destruction of a new focus of study but the slow careful process Harry was using gave them the mistaken impression that the boy knew what he was doing. Harry held his breath as he twisted the blade and a good sized piece of wood snapped off revealing the tip of a scarlet feather. Turning slightly to face the two, now perplexed men he held it out towards them.

"Now, can one of you use your abilities to remove the rest of the wood without damaging the feather?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. Even if he couldn't use his wand here it still carried a great deal of sentimental value to him but he figured the feather itself would mean a lot more given where it came from.

"You do it," Belgarath said as he pushed his brother forward. "You're better at precision work." Beldin nodded as he took the wand and examined it closely before drawing in his will. Harry didn't pay any attention the word that he said but almost immediately the wand almost seemed to disintegrate as very small pieces began to fly off in all directions. When all was done Beldin was left holding a long Scarlet feather with thin lines of gold interspersed across its length. Beldin sucked in a deep breath as he gazed at it but Harry couldn't tell if it was because of its beauty or because he felt the power it contained or maybe a combination between the two.

"That is what gives the wand its power and ability to focus energy. Though different wands can have different cores." Harry explained.

"What kind of feather is this?" Beldin asked in an awed sort of voice.

"Beldin has a love for beautiful things, and for exotic birds." Belgarath explained when Harry looked at him in confusion.

"That is the tail feather of a phoenix." Beldin quickly demanded to know what a phoenix was and what they looked like, their abilities, he wanted to know everything and Harry was happy to tell him everything he knew.

"Feel free to study it all you want, just don't let anything happen to it. The phoenix that gave that feather for a wand is a, friend, of mine named Fawkes so I'm sure you can imagine I want to hang on to it especially since I don't know if I'm ever going to get home." The two nodded in consent before they began examining the feather in ways Harry didn't think he would ever be able to understand so he figured he might as well try to get some more sleep before the sun came up but all too soon Belgarath woke him so they could get moving. Looking around Harry could see that Beldin was already gone and seeing seemingly miles of grassland in every direction Harry began to wonder exactly where they were going and how they were getting there. Unfortunately for Harry the preferred mode of transportation at this time still seemed to be walking because the horses on this world were a bit puny although Algar Fleetfoot, king of Algaria, had his people breeding horses on Aldur's recommendation so that they could someday have the strongest and fastest horses alive. Right now, after nearly half a day of walking, Harry hoped that that day would be soon.

During the late morning, the two passed a small cottage that seemed to be abandoned. Harry had asked Belgarath about it but the man refused to answer, in fact he refused to even look at it. Harry was a bit confused by his behavior but figured a friend of his had lived their and they died or something along those lines. For the life of him he couldn't think of any other reason someone would obviously feel pained by the mere sight of an ordinary house.

By early evening, Harry was about ready to collapse completely yet Belgarath would not let him rest. Every time he asked to stop for a bit the old man just said that they were 'almost there so there was no use keeping the Master waiting longer than necessary.' Harry was about to demand that if his master was a god then why the hell didn't he come to them instead of making them walk so far before he stopped himself when he squinted his eyes and focused on a large pile of rock that had been growing larger over the last couple of hours. Now he could plainly see that it was not merely a pile a rock but rather a stone tower standing alone surrounded by so much grassland. Harry had the distinct impression that this tower was their destination but by the looks of it they still had at least an hour of walking left to do. He growled in annoyance that the old man didn't seem to ever get tired but he appeared amused by his reaction.

Even though he had never been a religious person, Harry was ready to praise every deity that may or may not exist when the distance was cut down to just a few hundred yards though he took a moment out of his 'prayers' when he realized there were others that seemed to be standing around the base of the tower. He could see that two of them were fairly tall men while the other was clearly a young girl. As they neared the small group and their features became clear he figured the two taller, older men were Belgarath's brothers, Beltira and Belkira. This was just an assumption of course but the two appeared to be identical in every way and were positively ancient so who else could they be.

The girl appeared to be twelve or thirteen years old with long blond hair and, Harry wasn't ashamed to admit it, probably the most beautiful face he had ever seen before. Despite the rather ordinary dress she wore, there was no denying the regal appearance she gave. She turned away from the two older men and began running towards Belgarath with a wide smile on her face and Harry had to blink in shock at how graceful the girl's movements were.

"Father!" She exclaimed happily as she threw her arms around Belgarath's neck as he hugged her tightly. Harry once again blinked stupidly as he looked at the two. Did he hear that right? Father? The man was four thousand years old and he had such a young daughter? 'Well at least he doesn't seem to have any problems with vitality at his age.' Harry chuckled to himself as Belgarath walked awkwardly towards his two brothers while still holding onto the small girl.

"Ah, you must be…"

"Harry Potter." One of the twins began while the other finished.

"Our master has spoken highly of you." They both continued and Harry sighed to himself as he came to think every set of twins shared one brain.

"Yes, I am. I take it you're Beltira and Belkira?" Harry half asked half stated and the two nodded happily in confirmation. Like Belgarath and Beldin the twins had long white hair and long beards but that is where the similarities ended. These two men had about them an aura of warmth and kindness not unlike that of Albus Dumbledore but they lacked that annoying all knowing twinkle in their eyes. And unlike their two brothers these men seemed to take a great deal of pride in their personal hygiene and appearance.

"Now that you have been introduced to these fossils, my name is Beldaran." The young girl began with a warm smile as she disentangled herself from her father. Harry figured that the girl's smile could easily be considered addictive. It could easily soften even the hardest of hearts and put anyone at ease. Surprisingly she stepped forward without hesitation and gave Harry a small hug which he hesitantly returned. "I figured I would give you a warm welcome since I'm sure you won't get one from my sister Polgara." She told him as she stepped back.

"No, he won't." A cool voice interjected from off to the side. Harry turned and almost gasped in shock. Was that supposed to be a girl? She was a few inches taller than her sister and she certain was no prize. She looked a great deal like Beldin, just without the deformities. Her long black hair was wild and matted with twigs and bits of leaves caught in it. She was tall and skinny with skinned up knobby knees and she was covered in dirt. Harry thought he saw a streak of hair that could have possibly been white but with all the dirt and grime he couldn't really be sure. By the lack of reaction from the other four present Harry got the impression that her appearance was normal.

She continued to glare at him coldly before turning her gaze to her father for a brief moment before storming into the tower and disappearing. Harry stared after her in shock for several minutes before blinking a few times and turning away. After a moment the twins and Belgarath followed her inside. Harry was about to go in as well when Beldaran spoke up again.

"I don't think she likes you very much."

"Oh, you sensed that to?" Harry asked sarcastically. "But the question is why. I've never laid eyes on her before now."

"Because my father was the one that brought you here so now she associates you with him." The girl answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Now Harry was really confused. Beldaran was clearly a very nice and loving girl and she apparently had nothing but affection for her father so why did it seem to be the opposite for Polgara.

"Come on, the master will be waiting for you." Harry followed her inside and she led him up the stairs that wound around the sides of the tower. They passed three separate levels but she didn't so much as pause in her steps so Harry wasn't able to get a good look at what a 'god' would have in his home. Finally they came to what was apparently the top and it opened up into a large sitting room with a fire burning happily in the fire place and Harry took note that it burned with no wood.

Belgarath, Beldin and the twins were standing about discussing something or another but it quickly became clear as Belgarath shifted slightly and he saw Beldin holding the phoenix feather while pointing to several points on it with his other hand. Harry found this mildly amusing before moving his gaze elsewhere. His eyes briefly passed over Polgara who seemed to be sulking in the corner and his attention was pulled to a figure that was sitting in a high backed chair in front of the fire. Harry couldn't see much of the figure except what seemed to be the dress code around here, long white hair. As if sensing Harry's scrutiny the man stood up and turned towards him causing the boy to instantly such in a deep breath. He looked a great deal like Beltira and Belkira and had a good natured look about him but there was one BIG difference.

The most power he had ever seen, or felt, in one small place was just a month before when Dumbledore and Voldemort were using everything in their arsenals in an attempt to destroy each other in the Department of Mysteries. The feel of all that power was very nearly overwhelming. But what he felt radiating off this man was infinitely greater. He racked his mind for several moments trying to figure out how someone could possibly be that powerful but the only conclusion that he could come to was the very idea that he had scoffed at just that morning.

"Oh shit."

TBC


	3. Aldur and Polgara

_**TO END ALL WARS**_

_**By**_

_**Padfootjr24**_

_**Chapter Three: Aldur and Polgara **_

The god standing in front of him chuckled slightly at Harry's reaction to his presence, snapping him out of his stupor. He couldn't really describe it but for some reason he felt some sort of connection with this deity although 'connection' may be to crude a word for what he was feeling at that moment, it seemed to be more profound than that but whatever it was he didn't understand it. Just being in his presence made him feel one hundred percent better about his situation with the belief that everything would turn out alright in the end.

"Hello, Harry Potter." Aldur began with a kind smile. "Why don't you take a seat, we have much to discuss, you and I." Harry just nodded stupidly before walking numbly to the chair next to him and sitting down as the others in the room joined their master. "I am sure you are wondering why you are here?"

"Um, yes, Master!" Harry answered a bit uncomfortably. He had no idea how he was supposed to address a god but the thought of calling him anything but master seemed wrong somehow and without knowing why, he knew that if he was able he would follow Aldur for the rest of his life.

"As you have come to realize, you are no longer on the world of your birth." Harry couldn't help but smirk a bit when he heard sharp intake of breath coming from the corner that Polgara was sitting in when Aldur said this. Beldaran and the twins were looking at him again with renewed interest so he figured Beldin had said nothing about that after he left the campsite that he and Belgarath had used the night before. "The reason you are here is because like the others here, myself included, you are a tool of necessity. You were born with the sole purpose of setting right a terrible 'accident' that occurred when the universe was still young."

"Um, what sort of accident?" Harry asked uncertainly. He was greatly annoyed to being considered a tool to anyone or anything but he figured he better get some more information before lashing out at anyone in anger, especially a god.

"In this case it was the untimely destruction of a star. Everything within the universe has a purpose but this particular unintended event split the course of that purpose into two equally powerful and equally probable conclusions, one light and one dark. Until this accident can be balanced and the split repaired the universe cannot progress down its intended course. Since this rift occurred, each of these two separate possibilities are controlled by a sentient awareness and have been clashing with each other, trying to gain dominance over the other. These 'confrontations' must be between the chosen champions of either the light or the dark because if the two entities were to meet each other directly the whole of the universe would be destroyed."

Harry listened in silence as Aldur explained how the 'Child of Light' and the 'Child of Dark' carried with them the power of the two separate destinies and that one would eventually defeat the other. The Child of Light and Dark vary from time to time on many different worlds across the universe but that there would eventually be an ultimate Child of Light that would descend from King Riva Irongrip. It would be him that corrects this 'accident'. These two separate paths had an intelligence all their own and had set down specific rules that each most follow as their conflict with each other progressed. Neither would violate these rules because if they did so the other would be free of the restraints as well. Aldur described it as being much like a game of chess. Time was of no consequence to them so many of the 'moves' they had already made will not show their true intent for possibly thousands of years. Harry tried to understand this but since he wasn't much of a strategic thinker trying to figure it out just gave him a headache.

"Alright let me get this straight. The universe was once whole but something happened to split it, so now there are two intelligences instead of one." When Aldur nodded Harry continued. "These two 'beings' are basically waging war against each other but they have to use people or gods to carry out their acts in accordance with a certain set of rules that no one else seems to know and sooner or later their two 'champions' are going to go head to head for a final time that will correct any mistake made and make the universe whole again."

"Correct." Aldur answered with a slight nod before continuing on to the reason Harry was there. He was a bit surprised to hear that he was the Child of Light twice. Once when Voldemort attacked his family when he was a year old and the other just the day before when he was sent to this world. Of course the Dark Lord was the Child of Dark both times. Apparently the two 'entities' agreed that Harry was to be sent to Aldur because eventually his conflict with Voldemort would spill into this world though he didn't know how. Voldemort didn't find the information on how to send Harry to this world or even get the idea on his own. The idea and the knowledge of where to look for the information needed was placed in his mind by this dark entity.

"So how long will I be here?"

"Many centuries, at least!" Harry's jaw nearly dropped to the floor after his brain registered what the god had just said in such a casual manner.

"WHAT? I can't stay here that long. Even if I could live for hundreds of years I can't just leave everyone I know to be slaughtered by that lunatic. My world could be in ruins by the time I got back."

"That will not be the case." Aldur interjected softly to calm Harry's growing panic. "Did it not occur to you how your world could have progressed as far as it has when my brothers and I just left this one only thirteen years ago?" Harry looked on in confusion while Belgarath and his brothers perked up with interest. Apparently this was a subject they had intended to bring up eventually.

"The universe is vast but some parts are bigger than others. Depending on where you are at the time, time itself fluctuates. As everything is always moving, nothing, not even time, remains constant. Though we have been gone for only a short time, in other parts of the universe it has been much longer, or much shorter. You happened to arrive here not long after your world entered another part of the universe where time passes slower than it does here instead of faster."

"Meaning what exactly?" Science certainly was never Harry's strong point.

"Meaning you could be here for a long time and only a short period would pass for you world. It makes sense actually…" Belgarath explained as he sat nursing a tankard of ale with a thoughtful expression on his face. Harry tuned him out when he and Beldin got into some debate over the true nature of time that was so far over his head that he couldn't possibly hope to comprehend it.

He sat silently thinking over everything he had been told. While he could certainly learn a lot here and it was nice to be able to avoid Voldemort's assassination attempts for a time it was the uncertainty that really bothered him. His lack of knowledge of this world is something that could be easily rectified with time but the fact that he didn't know how long he would be here was what really bothered him as well as the fact that whenever that time came he would be hundreds of years old going back to a home he would probably barely remember and friends that were possibly still children. Ron and Hermione and now Ginny, Neville and Luna as well, were good friends and he certainly didn't want to lose them but could he possibly keep a friendship with such a gap in age and experience. Hell, he could be many times older than Dumbledore, for Merlin's sake.

Here, however, he was surrounded by old men and a wild girl with an attitude problem. Beldaran seemed like pleasant enough company but it wasn't exactly the same. After all, he did go through an awful lot with Ron and Hermione. With this train of thought he decided that he had better write down as much of the stuff about his life, world and the people close to him that he could remember so that when he finally went home he wouldn't be completely lost.

"Now Harry," Aldur spoke up again, pulling him out of his rather depressing thoughts. "I am afraid that while you are here you must leave your birth name behind since it is rather unusual and may attract attention from those that would like to know who you really are and where you come from." Harry was a little surprised at just how much that bit of news seemed to hurt. He figured that most people wouldn't care much one way of the other what name they were known by, well except for Tonks, but living a life where he always wanted to feel closer to his parents, using a name other than the one they had given him just seemed wrong in many different ways.

"I understand how you must feel, but it is for the best." Harry took a bit of comfort from Aldur's reassuring smile. After a bit of debate between his four disciples, Beldin decided that he should use the name Haldar. Apparently at the moment it was a name commonly used in the area that is now eastern Drasnia and meant blade dancer. Harry wasn't to sure about being known as 'blade dancer' but Haldar sounded fairly good nonetheless.

For the time being, Belgarath and his brothers would tutor Harry in the ways of their world until he was at a point where he can decide what he is to study for himself but the primary focus for now would be developing his 'mediocre' talent. The twins were happy to offer Harry a place to stay with them and despite their enthusiasm about the idea, Harry was starting to feel a bit like a loafer and he didn't much like it. Not long after Beltira and Belkira made their offer, the exhaustion Harry had felt before entering Aldur's tower seemed to come back full force and he had to fight just to keep his eyes open. Seeing this, the twins asked their master's permission to retire, which he readily gave, and led Harry out of the room. Even through he was extremely tired, Harry could feel Polgara's cold eyes on him until he was out of her line of sight and even then he had no doubt that her eyes hadn't softened any. Harry had to admit that the girl had a very penetrating gaze but it was nothing compared to Snape's so he didn't let it bother him any.

"So, where are we going?" Harry yawned as they stepped out into the cool night. Normally he wasn't a very trusting person when in the presence of people he didn't know but what choice did he have. Besides, these two men hardly seemed the type that enjoy torturing and killing young men for their own enjoyment.

"Our towers are about two miles to the west." Both men answered as one.

"You all live in towers?" He asked as he suppressed the erg to groan at the idea of more walking.

"Yes…

"We were all living…"

"In our master's when we…"

"Decided to build our own."

"Don't mind them, that is just the way they talk." Harry jumped about a foot in the air when Beldaran's voice spoke up behind him much to the amusement of Beltira and Belkira.

"I don't mind at all," Harry replied after he got his heart rate under control. "Two of my friends are twin brothers and they do the same thing. It can be rather entertaining actually."

"Yes, it is. Uncle Beldin pretends that it's annoying but I think he thinks it funny like the rest of us." Beldaran decided to walk with them because she was interested in where Harry had come from. As they walked, Beldaran and the twins listened in fascination as Harry described his world, especially his friends, Hogwarts and muggle technology. They of course were horrified by the acts of Voldemort and his Death Eaters and although he didn't go into much detail they could tell that he had lost a lot to them. By their expressions Harry could tell that though they may share a common language, which he thought was rather strange, there were vast differences in their cultures and levels of civilization. Harry stopped in mid step, almost falling over in the process, and began digging around in his pockets. A small smile graced his face as he found what he was looking for, his shrunken school trunk.

"What is that?" The twins asked as one.

"This holds most of my processions, including that photo album I told you about." Harry replied and his three companions brightened immediately at being able to see such realistic likenesses of people and places so they resumed their journey as they began to explain to Harry how this world worked. After hearing about the different Alorn kingdoms by Belgarath he was only mildly surprised that every country was ruled over by a king or even an emperor. But he was very surprised to learn that it was basically a medieval society that still used such primitive equipment as swords, archery and siege engines. Harry sighed, thinking that with a name that means blade dancer it would probably be a good idea to learn how to use some kind of weapon but he was hit by a sudden thought. According to Belgarath much of the skills of warfare were developed during the war that eventually led to Torak using the Orb of Aldur to crack the world, and that was supposed to be two thousand years ago. Hadn't they advanced any, in terms of technology, since then? Not to mention military technology.

Beltira theorized that the reason for such vast differences in the level of advancements their different worlds had made was probably do too many of the substances that are necessary for such technology simply doesn't exist here, or are not plentiful enough to be efficient.

MMM

"So, how am I going to go about this?" Belgarath asked to himself as he stood with Beldin, watching Harry and the others walking away from one of the windows in their master's tower. The older man stood quietly in thought for several minutes before responding.

"It shouldn't really be too hard. His ability is already partially unlocked but it was also hindered and restrained because of that wand. From what I was able to get from the master before you arrived, due to the dependence his people have had on wands for centuries has manipulated their bodies slightly, causing sporadic releases of their will while they are young. When they begin training with wands they stabilize. But what you need to do is find something that will get his emotions up and force him to us his abilities to an extent that it can overcome the damage done. I would suggest getting him very pissed off." Beldin finished with a grin as he nodded his head to his right. Belgarath looked in the same direction to see his daughter Polgara speaking with Aldur. The old man grinned widely at his brother thinking that this was definitely the way to go. If anyone could push the young man to use his talents it was certainly Polgara. He just hoped the boy would survive the encounter.

MMM

It wasn't long before the small group stopped at the base of another tall slim tower that was situated closely to another identical tower and looking up Harry could barely make out what looked to be some kind of walkway suspended between the two. Beltira whispered the word 'open' and a large stone seemed to move out from the formerly smooth face before moving aside to reveal the towers entrance. The two quickly shuffled Harry and Beldaran inside and up the stairs in excitement. This one had four different levels but unlike their master's the top of this tower seemed to be used for study and was much more cluttered, though neatly organized.

"Open it up now?" The two old men asked with pleading eyes as they seemed to hop in place in excitement. Beldaran giggled at their antics and Harry couldn't help but grin as he pulled his trunk out of his pocket and set it on the floor before asking Belkira to return it to its normal size which he did immediately with a simple command. Kneeling down on the floor he opened the trunk and moved his school robes off to the side to get at the more interesting items beginning with his photo album that they expressed so much interest in seeing.

"This is a photograph." He told them with a smile as he showed them the cover that had a picture of him as a small child with his parents. All three of them gasped in shock at the moving figures and Harry had a hard time holding in his laughter when Beldaran hesitantly reached out a finger to poke the picture.

"Is that you with your parents?" She asked in a sweet voice. Harry nodded sadly and began showing them the other pictures and spent a good deal of time telling them about the different people and places that were depicted. They were most interested in the different animals that Hagrid had filmed when he was gathering pictures to make the album for him. Harry was a little worried that the twins seemed to have the half-giant's love for dangerous animals as they cooed over the pictures of Fluffy, the giant three headed dog, and the picture of baby Norbert. Beldaran explained that the two were shepherds before they came to the Vale and had a love for all living things.

"What kind of material is this?" Harry looked over to see Belkira closely examining his invisibility cloak as it lay in his trunk. "It feels a bit like silk but there is a difference." Harry smiled widely at such a perfect set up.

"It doesn't look like it would protect you much from the weather." Beldaran added.

"I'm not particularly sure what it's made up of but it isn't the weather that it's intended to protect you from." He explained as he leaned over to pick it up. "This is called an invisibility cloak." He said just a brief moment before he threw it over his shoulders, leaving only his head in view. Beldaran's hands flew to her mouth as she gasped loudly with her eyes wide.

The twins, however, shrieked like little girls and tripped over a bench as they stepped backwards, sending them tumbling to the floor. Harry's laughter burst forth even as he dropped the cloak to the floor to help the two men to their feet. He tried to apologize for frightening them, although he really didn't mean it, but they just waved that off as they set about examining this new mystery. As the twins rifled through Harry's things with enthusiasm Harry sat listening as Beldaran told him about growing up in the Vale.

Harry was a little surprised to hear that she and Polgara were actually twins. They were thirteen years old and had been raised most by Beldin and the twins. Their mother, Poledra, had died in childbirth when Belgarath was in Mallorea retrieving the Orb with Bearshoulders and his sons. When he returned home to find his wife dead, Belgarath literally went mad. It got so bad that Beldin had to chain him to his bed and watch over him to make sure that he didn't use his will to kill himself. Several months later when they decided that he was no longer a danger to himself they let him go and he spent a few years in waterfront dives drowning his sorrows in ale barrels before Aldur himself had to intervene. Even then he made a point to stay away from the Vale, instead he spent the better part of nine years crisscrossing the different kingdoms in the west doing the tasks his master set for him. He only just returned recently.

Hearing this, Harry was surprised that Beldaran had been able to forgive her father so readily for never being there but he admired her for it nonetheless, he certainly wouldn't be able to do that. Polgara apparently did not share her sister's ability to forgive so easily. In fact the two seemed to be polar opposites in every way. Beldaran's sweet, sunny disposition was an extreme contrast to Polgara's cold, almost callous, nature. But despite their differences they were the best of friends. What confused him however was why the girl would share such personal information with him, she hardly knew anything about him.

"The two of you should probably get some sleep. Belgarath is going to want to start early, Haldar." Harry was momentarily confused by the use of his new name but shook it off as Beldaran wished him well and left.

"Um, isn't it a bit dangerous for her to be out alone this late?" He asked with concern after the girl left the room. They were, after all, basically out in the wilderness.

"She will be fine, there isn't anything in the Vale that would want to harm her." Beltira answered without looking up from the table where he was examining Harry's invisibility cloak under a magnifying lens, his brother was doing the same with the photographs.

"We set up a place for you to sleep on the second level. It's not much but it should be comfortable enough." Harry nodded thankfully before gathering the rest of his stuff up and making his way down the stairs. There was a small fire burning in the fireplace but his exhaustion suddenly returned two fold so he didn't bother looking around and he had just enough energy to make it to the small bed before collapsing into the first restful sleep he had since before school let out.

"WAKE UP BOY!" Harry literally few out of bed landing of his feet as he looked around wildly but since his glasses seemed to have fallen off during the night everything was blurry. Once again Belgarath marveled at the boy's speed but he didn't let that put a damper on his amusement though he was a bit confused.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm just looking for my glasses."

"Hold still." Belgarath interrupted his search as he grabbed his upper arm and turned him around.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked a bit nervously but he got no answer. At least not a verbal answer. With the single word 'clear' the foggy haze that he had seen all his life lifted and he could see the world without the aid of his glasses. Looking at the old man in shock he could see a smug grin on his face. "I'll admit that I'm not at all well trained in healing but living as long as I have, I have needed to correct my sight quite a few times over the years."

"_Clear_?" Harry asked incredulously but seeing the man's confusion he elaborated. "Couldn't you use a different word?"

"Of course I could, but clear worked just fine." He obviously didn't know what the boy was getting at and was beginning to question his mental state.

"It's all about style. If you go around saying things like _clear, push, pull _or_ lift,_ people will think you're ignorant and won't take you as seriously as they should. If you need these people to do something then that certainly won't do. Come on Belgarath, you're four thousand years old, you must have an awfully large vocabulary by now, use it." Harry finished with a cheeky grin. After thinking it over the man just grunted before pushing him over to the table that was sitting nearby and telling him to sit down. He did as he was told and as the man was shuffling through some papers he took the time to look around for the first time.

Like the study area at the top of the tower this part was one open space and looked to be about the same size as his Gryffindor dorm room. The bed resting against the wall was the size of his back at Privet Drive but experience told him that this one was much more comfortable. The majority of the rest of the wall space was covered up with clean worktables, empty bookshelves and cubby holes that were filled with blank parchment and bottles of ink. Belgarath was currently pulling down a large map from off the wall between two sets of shelves.

"Oh, the twins left something out for you on that work bench over there." He said as he nodded towards the opposite wall. Harry looked over a few dishes with a bit of bread and cheese and some type of meat and well as a large tankard of some frothy liquid that smelled a bit like beer. Harry once again felt grateful for the twins as he rearranged the dishes so that he had a bit of everything on one dish before moving back over to the table. He was thinking about just leaving the beer but decided he might as well give it a try.

"Alright Haldar, this is a relatively accurate map of our world." He began as he spread the map out over the table. Harry had to admit, the map itself was a work of art. Whoever made certainly spent a great deal of time on it. "As you can see there are two large continents that are separated by the Sea of the East in one direction and in the other the far more vast reaches of the Great Western Sea. Right now we are right here in the Vale, which as you can see is situated basically in the center of the continent and of course I already told you where the Alorn kingdoms are but now you can see them." Harry looked at the map critically as he tried to take note of approximately where everything was.

The continent was basically shaped like a deformed rectangle where the sea pushed inland on the east coast leaving a curved coastline. In the west Arendia pushed out slightly into the Great Western Sea. He could see that the four kingdoms that once made up Aloria were in the form of the number seven, with Cherek serving as a large peninsula whose southern most tip was just a few miles to the northern coast of Arendia. The largest body of water, within the continent, was the large gulf that was almost entirely enclosed by Arendia and the Alorn kingdoms.

"These mountains here to the west of Algaria was once the land of the Ulgos but after Torak cracked the world the various creature's the gods sent to UL when he wouldn't let them destroy them went mad. While they once lived in peace with the Ulgos, they were now hunted. As a result UL had his people move into the caves below and they have remained there since. As you can imagine, living the entirety of their lives in the caves changed them over the last two thousand years and now they are almost incapable of venturing outside. They are blinded by even the smallest of lights and the seemingly endless sky makes them nervous." Harry listened attentively while eating his meal as Belgarath pointed out the different lands and explained their different peculiarities. Nestled in between the mountains of Ulgo and the Great Western Sea was Arendia, which was broken up into three Duchies, the Asturians, Mimbrates and the Wacites, which were in an almost constant state of war with each other. Arends were a proud, honorable and extremely polite and formal people but no Arend had ever been accused of being big on thought.

South of Arendia was the Tolnedrian Empire. Harry raised an eyebrow at calling that an empire when it couldn't be much larger than Egypt back home. Belgarath explained that Tolnedrians were extremely self-conscious about how they were viewed by others. The single most important thing in the empire was money. They were also a very paranoid people and were always scheming against each other to make a profit and rise in social standing. Though he found the basis of Tolnedrian life rather ridiculous Belgarath said that their legions were probably the finest fighting force in the world.

South of Tolnedra was Nyissa witch was mainly made up of dense jungles were they have an almost obsession with snakes that they revere almost as much as Issa. The rule of Nyissa was always a woman named Salmissra in honor of Issa's first High Priestess. A new Salmissra is chosen by the palace eunuchs from a group of young woman that resemble the first High Priestess and afterwards the rest of the girls from that group are killed. Salmissra is kept looking young and youthful by liberal use of various compounds found in their jungles but they have some adverse effects as well, such as an extreme lust. For the most part it is actually the eunuchs that run the country although a few Salmissra's have exerted enough control to push them aside.

To the east of Tolnedra was Maragor. The Marags were a peculiar race in the fact that their society was almost completely matriarchal. Eight out of every ten children born are female so obviously men were in short supple so it was very common for many women to share the same man. As appealing as most men would find the idea of moving to Maragor they did have one VERY distasteful custom. It started out simple enough but soon developed into a major problem. Someone, idiot, made a mistake in interpreting their sacred texts and ritualistic cannibalism quickly became common practice.

"What's in these areas?" Harry asked as he indicated the land on the southern half of the continent and all along the east coast.

"Nothing much right now but that's changing. The south is almost uninhabitable. It's covered in deserts, bogs and mountainous terrain. It would just be too much effort to make a life there. The environment starts to get more bearable just south east of here. This range right here on the edge of the Vale is known as the Eastern Escarpment. It's a cliff face that is almost a mile high which serves as a pretty good defense for the west from any hostile force.

After we stole the Orb from Torak he went into a fit and knocked down his iron tower and drove the people living in Cthol Mishrak out and instructed them to come west. Over the last several years they have been arriving but the Escarpment prevents them from making any serious trouble.

The three Angarak tribes that are on this continent are the Thulls, Nadraks and the Murgos. The Thulls are the slave class of Angarak society, they are big, strong and dumb as a post. Usually when the Grolims start sharpening their knives for sacrifices the Thulls are the first ones they go after because they mean less than nothing. They have settled primarily just east of here on the other side of the escarpment in Mishrak Ac Thull. North of them, along the eastern border of Drasnia, is Gar og Nadrak. Nadraks are primarily merchants and businessmen. Of the three tribes they are the only ones that make no effort to hide their contempt for the Grolims and other Angaraks. They are just as likely to attack the Murgos as they are to attack the Alorns.

The Murgos however are the problem. They are scattered about throughout the southern half of the continent which they call Cthol Murgos. Like I told you, that land is pretty much uninhabitable but the Murgos have always been attracted to ugly things so they love it. For the most part they are smaller than Thulls but have broad powerful shoulders and angular eyes and they make jagged scars on their cheeks as a blood sacrifice to Torak. They are the warriors and were the aristocracy of Cthol Mishrak. They are fanatically loyal to Torak and absolutely ruthless. Unfortunately the problem isn't just the Angaraks but also the Alorns. Before for the gods left Belar instructed them to continue the war against Torak at all costs. Naturally that suited them just fine. Having Alorns and Angaraks this close together is going to cause us a lot of problems."

"So, this is Mallorea?" Harry half asked half stated with a whistle as he looked at the vast size of the other continent before downing what was left of his beer. He had tried the beverage several times while growing up but never really cared much for it but this stuff was really good.

"Yes and the only bright spot there is that the vast majority of its people aren't loyal to Torak although the Grolims are putting in quite the effort to bring them all under his influence." Not long after that Beldin showed up and Belgarath suggested that Harry, or Haldar, go for a walk. Knowing when he was being dismissed, Harry nodded and started walking out when Beldin stopped him.

"You should head south, Haldar. About two hours walk from here, in the center of the Vale is a tree…"

"Why would I want to see a tree?" He asked in confusion.

"I WAS ABOUT TO TELL YOU THAT." The dwarf snapped back, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. "The tree is the first form of life that was ever created by the gods, Aldur to be exact. It has a few peculiarities that I'm sure will interest you." Harry just raised an eyebrow before moving down the stairs. "Are you sure he will go?" Beldin asked after the boy was gone.

"Yes," Belgarath nodded. "He hides it well but he is almost as curious as you are. They entire time I was here he never once took his eyes off of the map. I wouldn't be surprised if he had memorized it. Should we follow him? This could get ugly." Belgarath asked curiously.

"What, are you turning into a woman? After what the girl did to you when you showed up at that tree last month I'm not going to miss out on opportunity to see what she does to him." Beldin cackled before shifting into the form of a black hawk that had bands of blue feathers on its wings before flying out of the window. Belgarath didn't particularly enjoy flying but his favorite form of a wolf would be to noticeable in the open grassland and they didn't want the boy, or Polgara, knowing that they were nearby so with a sigh he shifted into a hawk as well and took off after his brother.

MMM

Harry tried to fight it, he really did, after all he had done enough walking the day before to last him a lifetime but eventually his curiosity got the better of him and he set out to the south. Not far away, probably a mile or two off to the southwest he could another tower while off to the southeast was yet another. He could certainly understand the fascination they seemed to have with the structure, well at least he thought he did. The surrounding land was actually very beautiful and being so high up gave you a very good view not to mention his love for flying made him feel at home in high places. To bad his broom was destroyed when the Death Eaters attacked.

As he walked he couldn't help but feel at peace here. Looking around he could see many forms of life, from deer, rabbits even some rather small and shaggy looking cattle. Not to mention the wide variety of birds. Unlike in his own world where animals will usually run at the sight of people, these creatures seemed to look at him with nothing but mild curiosity. Soon however a large mass of in the distance suddenly caught his attention. Even from far away he could tell that it rose to towering heights and spread out over a large area. Quickly forgetting about the tree, which he still saw no sign of, Harry decided to see whatever this was instead.

The closer he got however the more he came to realize that his new target was, in fact, the tree Beldin had spoke of. It had to be, but how could anything possibly be that huge. It simply boggled the mind. Most trees died out long before they get even a quarter of the size the thing had to be. With renewed curiosity he speed up his pace and spent less time looking at his surrounding but much to his dismay a river lay in his path. Not to be discouraged so easily, he spent nearly half an hour walking up and down its bank looking for and ideal place to cross and even when he found a good spot he took the time to test the currents a bit which he was happy to find weren't that strong, at least not at the moment.

So, about twenty minutes later a very tired, and yet, Harry 'Haldar' Potter made it to the other side but he was in high spirits. He figured another ten minutes or so and he would be standing under the trees huge branches. Now that he was much closer he noticed something other than the unusual size of the tree which was the very large number of birds in the area that seemed to be flying around doing acrobatics in the air like they were putting on some kind of show. He breathed a big sigh of relief as he finally made it underneath the massive canopy but that relief was short lived when a harsh voice spoke up from above.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Harry looked up and quickly found the greasy, nasty form of Polgara and she sat in a reclined position in the junction between to branches as she stared down at him like he was some kind of bug.

"Felt like a walk." Harry answered sarcastically.

"Well this is my tree so go walk someplace else." Polgara spat out.

"No, I think I'll stay here for a while, its peaceful." He informed her casually before looking her over critically. "If you don't mind the view that is." If she wanted to be a nasty beast then so be it but he certainly wasn't going to let her take her anger out on him without retaliation. Harry's response sent the girl into a swearing fit as she uttered just about every profane word she knew. Harry didn't know what most of them meant but judging by her tone he didn't think they were complimentary. After she got herself under some semblance of control a slow smirk began to form across her lips that was eerily reminiscent of Draco Malfoy which set off some serious warning bells. She quickly bounded through the braches and was soon standing on the ground not far from Harry.

He neither heard the word she used nor saw the slight gesture with her right hand but suddenly his mind was attacked by a rush of images so grotesque that he nearly felt ill but thankfully it wasn't as bad as some of the things he had seen in his nightmares due to his connection with Voldemort. The pain he felt was something else entirely. While not as extreme as the Cruciatus Curse it was pretty damn close. After what seemed like hours, but had actually just been a few short moments, Harry's mind snapped to order and he realized that what he was seeing and feeling wasn't real. With this realization the images stopped and the pain was fading away. Harry shook his head slightly before raising his now furious eyes to the girl standing in front of him.

"SIT DOWN!" He snapped at her angrily. Polgara's eyes went wide as her body was forced to the ground just as Harry was crouching down so that they were at eye level once again. Now Polgara probably had one of the most penetrating gazes he had ever seen, though she was not a match for Snape but give her time, but even she could not replicate the utter fury and loathing that was shining through Harry's eyes.

"Let me give you a bit of professional advice." His tone may have been calm and casual but his eyes didn't soften one bit. "If you're going to use that tactic for whatever reason, whether its forcing someone to give you information, frightening your enemies or in your case, your own sick pleasure, you should always remember one thing. For you to be successful you must keep the mind occupied so that it does not realize it is being deceived because once that happens your hold is broken. What you must do is to implant images that are more ghastly than they have ever seen and simulate more pain than they have ever felt. I am sorry to say that even should you live to be your father's age you still would not be able to comprehend pain enough to keep hold of _my _mind. But you did learn something from this experience so the effort wasn't a total loss, was it?" Harry chuckled humorlessly. Polgara looked at Harry in shock for a moment wondering what someone so young could have experienced that allowed him to escape her grasp so quickly. She decided to simply cast the thought aside, not like she really cared anyway, and her anger returned full force.

Remembering her little confrontation with her father the month before Polgara called out to her bird friends for their assistance which they readily gave. Harry was deeply shocked at becoming the target for hundreds of dive-bombing birds and he waved his arms about wildly as he tried to fight them off. Polgara was having the time of her life watching Harry make a fool of himself but the delight fled as Harry seemed to have had enough.

"_**STOP!"**_ He bellowed at the top of his lungs and much to everyone's shock, Harry and the two circling hawks above included of course, that is exactly what the birds did. In mid flight every one of the birds that were attacking him apparently seized up and fell harmlessly to the ground. Polgara quickly crawled over to where several birds lay and breathed a sigh of relief when she found that they were still alive. Harry however was looking around the area wildly. He had an uneasy feeling that he knew what was going on and he didn't much like it. His suspicions were apparently confirmed when he spotted two birds circling overhead. Being the only two feathered creatures capable of movement in the area was certainly suspicious.

"Get, down, here, now." He seethed out through clenched teeth though he was saying it primarily to himself. He was, of course, momentarily surprised when the two old men, in their human forms, appeared in front of him since he certainly didn't say it loud enough for them to actually hear it but he set this question aside for the moment. Wasting no time he reached forwards to grab the front of the tunics of the men facing him and he pulled them in close. Harry noticed Polgara paying close attention to what was going on but she wisely remained quiet.

"I don't like being used, and I detest being manipulated by those around me. If you have some kind of twisted rivalry with your daughter then that is your business, not mine, so leave me out of it from now on." When Harry finished he just pushed the two men back before turning around and heading back the way he came but stopped once more.

"I suggest you advise that filthy creature behind you to avoid attacking my mind from now one. If she tries it again I will certainly do a whole lot more than simply knocking her on her ass." He said coldly before continuing his journey. Belgarath and Beldin looked at each other for several moments before the two began laughing hysterically. Polgara was walking around in the shade of the tree, waking up the birds as she went. She had pretended to ignore what Harry had said but in reality she was just as attentive as the two old men. If it wasn't for her pride she probably would have shuddered as she remembered the look of pure hatred in his eyes, more hate and anger than she thought possible, especially for a child. She was by no means going to be nice to him but she decided that for the time being it would be wise for her to follow the boy's advice.

"Well, this will certainly be interesting. To be perfectly honest I was worried that he wouldn't have it in him to be that firm but if he could silence Polgara without having to result to physical force it would seem my fears were unfounded." Belgarath spoke up happily after the two men recovered from their mirth. "We should probably go after him."

"He'll be fine. Give him some time to cool down on his own. Lets go see the twins, I need something to drink and your brewing expertise isn't exactly on par with theirs."

"Well they're Alorns, they were practically raised in an ale barrel." Belgarath argued.

"What difference does that make?"

"None, lets just call it jealousy for lack of a better term."

TBC


	4. Farewells

**IMPORTANT: The passages that are in italics come directly from 'Belgarath the Sorcerer', with little, if any, changes. What I have added to those passages will be in normal script.**

_**TO END ALL WARS**_

_**By**_

_**Padfootjr24**_

_**Chapter Four: Farewells **_

When Harry made it back to the twins' towers he stormed inside and headed up the stairs to level they had set aside for him. During his walk back his anger had not diminished in the slightest so he certainly wasn't up for company but when he found Beltira and Belkira waiting for him he couldn't bring himself to lash out at them. For one, the two saintly old men took him in when they didn't really have to and two, judging by their expressions they clearly did not approve of their brothers' deception although he still couldn't work out what the two men were trying to accomplish.

"Come with us, Haldar," Beltira began as he gestured for Harry to continue up the stairs. "You could use a healthy outlet for your anger…"

"And internalizing it will not help you." Not trusting himself enough to speak, Harry just nodded stiffly and continued on until he had passed the third level and arrived at that fourth where he awaited their instructions. Silently, the twins crossed the room and opened a door on the far wall and as Harry stepped closer he realized that it led out onto the arched walkway that connected the two towers. Shrugging in confusion at what they had planned, he followed along although he stopped for a moment to admire the view from the center of he walkway, it was absolutely beautiful. After taking a deep breath of fresh air and moments later he was standing in the top level of the other tower looking around in confusion since the twins were nowhere to be found.

This work space was set up exactly the same as the other and he smiled slightly as he noticed his photo album sitting on a nearby work table as he was sure his invisibility cloak was still sitting out in the other room, waiting to be studied some more. Shaking his head, Harry got back to the task at hand and walked down the stairs to find his hosts. He found them waiting for him on the second level that had obviously been equipped for training. A few swords and other hand held weapons were hanging on the walls and there were a couple of wooden dummies that had the entire human bone structure painted on to it. Looking back to the twins he saw that Beltira had two broadswords in his hands. Each blade looked to be about three and a half feet long and was very well taken care of.

"As you can see, Haldar, we…"

"Fully intend to teach you how to fight physically just as you will come to learn to fight with…

"Whatever abilities you will come to control."

"Well to be honest I was planning on learning how anyway. I figured that with a name that means 'blade dancer' I should at least get comfortable with a weapon. But, um, don't take this the wrong way or anything but I thought you were shepherds before you came here and after that I wouldn't think you would need a sword anymore?" Harry asked a bit nervously, he certainly didn't want to be insulting.

"We may have been shepherds but we are also Alorns and were trained to fight from a young age." Beltira began as if that explained everything and from what he had already been told about Alorns Harry supposed it did and so he nodded in understanding and Belkira continued for the second part of Harry's question.

"Even with our abilities is it wise to employ other measures as well. While inside the Vale we can pretty much do anything we want because our enemies would never dare set foot on this land, they are terrified of our master you see. Outside the Vale it is best to not draw attention to ourselves and use our talent only when absolutely necessary since many Grolims have the same gift we do and will be able to locate us if we are not careful."

"Although they both carry daggers with them, Belgarath and Beldin refuse to even consider learning to use a sword. Personally I think they believe they are too old for it and believe that they would look ridiculous. You, however, are younger so it wouldn't raise any eyebrows. Most old men don't have need for weapons so our two brothers would probably stand out if they tried to learn now." Harry chuckled slightly at the idea of Beldin claiming anything would make him look ridiculous before Beltira handed him one of the two swords he was holding and began showing him how to hold it right and several different stances before he found one he was comfortable with.

For most of the afternoon, Harry and the twins spent their time going over simple strikes and blocks and repeated them over and over again so that with more practice the moves would become almost reflexive. Despite the repetitive nature of the lesson, Harry was enjoying himself thoroughly and had every intention of mastering this skill for, if nothing else, the release of stress it provided. After a few hours, Harry's arms, chest and back were pretty sore, as were the twins, so he sat down and listened as the two used the wooden dummy to point out the best places to strike an opponent to cripple them by damaging or breaking their bones.

After Beltira left to attend to some things, the dummy was turned around where the entire surface was covered with patches of many different colors. Belkira explained that these different patches indicated the different organs, arteries and nerve clusters in the body. So for almost an hour the old man showed him the location of each of these and the best targets to go for if you wanted a quick kill or a slow one depending on whether or not you truly wanted the man dead or you wanted to give him a chance to live if he could get medical attention somewhere. Harry was a little sickened at this notion but he paid attention nonetheless and actually found it interesting.

As the sun was beginning to set, Belkira called an end to their lesson on the human anatomy and led Harry down to the first level where his brother seemed to be cooking up a storm and judging by the aroma coming from the large pot bubbling away in the fireplace he certainly knew his way around a kitchen.

"What was the point of sending me to that tree?" Harry asked a bit hesitantly as the three of them sat around a table eating bowls of stew and freshly baked bread. The twins glanced at each other briefly before Belkira nodded to his brother. Apparently now was not the time for possibly creating confusion by switching off between the two of them.

"The point, Haldar, was to put you into a situation where your emotions would certainly be heightened enough to force your will to act on its own rather than through your wand. We wouldn't have done it that way but we all do things differently."

"Ok, so my will acted, now what?"

"Now you must be trained although we won't be able to help you much. Each person thinks differently, therefore each person goes about things in different ways. When using your will there is no right way or wrong way to do things. We all have different strong points and what works for us might be a complete disaster for you. For the most part it is a process of trial and error with a great deal of practice. Basically all that we will be able to do for you is explain the limitations so that you don't end up hurting yourself or others and get you started by explaining how you _intentionally_ gather your will in the first place instead of relying on your emotions. We will also be able to offer any suggestions we might have on how you can do things more efficiently after you have developed your own technique."

Although he was still angry at Belgarath for deceiving him, Harry began working with him the next day to learn how to gather his will. He learned pretty quickly and more often than not his 'lessons' were just practice under the old man's supervision. He started out small, like moving rocks. He smirked at Belgarath when he used words like 'ascend' instead of 'lift' or 'illuminate' instead of 'light'. His tutor merely grumbled in annoyance but Harry became very smug when the man began doing the same thing himself. Apparently he reluctantly decided that Harry was right about the words they used. It didn't matter much when dealing with the Alorns but the Tolnedrians always took an educated man more seriously than others and the Arends were just dazzled by pretty words and flowery speech. One of the things that Belgarath explained was that from what he had been able to tell from his conversations with his master was that the vast majority of witches and wizards on Harry's home world would never be able to use their will without the aid of a wand because they don't have the natural ability to do so. They had just enough potential to get by with the 'crutch'. With this in mind Harry speculated that many of the people here, including Beldaran, could have possibly been capable of using a wand.

As the months went by, Harry continued to train with the twins using a sword which he thoroughly enjoyed and Belgarath had long since stopped supervising him where his practice with the Will and the Word were concerned. He was especially interested in how Belgarath seemed to be able to change into more than one animal since the only thing he had heard about that was similar was the animagus transformation but those capable of the skill could only change into one animal. He found that this was another restriction that wands had placed on the bodies of the wizards of his world. In the end, Harry found the process ridiculously easy. All he had to do was picture an animal in his mind, down to the last detail, and direct his will onto himself, fitting himself into that image. Naturally a bird was the first animal he chose, that of an eagle since he liked to fly so much but he found being stuck in the mind of an eagle a bit distracting. Eagles are very stupid birds, you see, and were easily distracted. The mechanics of flying however took a bit longer to master but Beldin helped him out there since he enjoyed being in the air probably more than Harry did.

He and Beldaran became very good friends and he tended to see her as a younger sister and though his relationship with Polgara didn't improve any, they avoided each other for the most part. As Harry grew and the clothes he had no longer fit, he got Beldaran to teach him how to sew which was a great source of amusement for the four disciples of Aldur since that was a woman's job but Harry didn't feel right about relying on his friend to make all of his clothes. He had no interest in wearing the woolen hose that was apparently the style in most of the western kingdoms so when he felt that he probably wasn't going to grow much more Beldin took him north a bit into Algaria until they came across a trading post that one of the Algarian clans set up temporarily while their herds of cattle and horses were in the area. While there, Harry was able to buy a good deal of cured leather and cotton linen for a surprisingly small amount although he had a suspicion that Beldin's presence might have had something to do with it, he is an unsavory sort of fellow. The hard leather boots he had bought were almost as much as his other supplies had cost primarily because they were already made and Beldin explained that since the Algars were nomadic, following along where their herds went, they made all of their equipment, boots, saddles and clothing to last since they get a lot of wear.

Harry hadn't been to Gringotts since before his second year at Hogwarts since he would just give his vault key to Mrs. Weasley and she would get the money he would need for the rest of the year when she went to her own vault for her children's school books and supplies. Harry was never a big spender so what was left after the year was over just ended up collecting in the bottom of his trunk. He was actually quite surprised how much was in there. Almost one hundred gold galleons and at least that number in silver sickles and bronze knuts. At Beldin's instruction, he only brought a handful of the silver coins with him.

Harry was a bit relieved at the low prices since he would be there for quite sometime although he doubted his money would last until he went home. The Algars questioned where the coins had come from but in the end they decided that silver was silver no matter what shape it was in. When they returned to the Vale, Harry came to the conclusion that sewing with leather was _much_ harder than with wool and cotton as he had been doing when Beldaran was teaching him how. In the end it took him almost two weeks to make a simple pair of pants out of the dark brown leather while the long coat he made out of black leather took him almost a month. Many times he was at his wits end and planned on using his will to do the task but his young friend seemed to have the uncanny ability to know when that particular thought came to mind and quickly squashed the notion, saying that he couldn't get into the habit of relying on his talent too much because there would be times when he wouldn't be able to use it which made sense for _her_ since she didn't have the same ability. Belgarath wholeheartedly agreed with this statement but that didn't mean that he was going to learn 'women's work' as he called it.

It was probably about a year after Harry arrived that he discovered the wonder that was Beldin's library. Harry learned quickly that although the man may be deformed and have a very sour disposition but there was certainly nothing wrong with his mind but he was still awed by the sheer size and scope of his scholastic collection. The man had probably, at one time or another, studied, at length, just about any topic you could possibly think of. Before Harry had come to the Vale, Albus Dumbledore was without a doubt the smartest man he had ever known but compared to Beldin he was nothing more than a very young schoolboy.

Nowadays if you wanted to find Harry and he wasn't flying he could either be found training with the twins, talking with Beldaran or reading in Beldin's library. He was rarely anywhere else. He learned that both Belgarath and Beldin were great lovers of philosophy although Belgarath had some pretty strange ideas that more often than not ended with Harry grinning like an idiot while the old man huffed and walked way whenever they get into a serious discussion. But when he disagreed with Beldin's views it was the other way around. No matter how much he tried Harry just couldn't seem to win an argument with the man. Even when he knew for a fact that he was right Beldin would just take his argument and twist it around until he was so confused that he would actually forget what they had been arguing about in the first place.

It was about midwinter of Harry's second year in the Vale when he was pulled out of bed by a very happy and excited Beldaran. It was freezing at the time so naturally he didn't appreciate being pulled out of a nice warm bed to land on a cold stone floor but one word seemed to get through his foggy mind.

"Come again?" He asked stupidly from his position on the floor, the cold floor and morning air forgotten.

"I'm getting married." She squealed happily. Harry blinked in confusion as he tried to figure out who the hell she knew well enough to be getting married when he remembered the type of society they were in and that meant arranged marriages. Naturally he was greatly saddened that she would be leaving but seeing how happy she was he didn't think it right to kill the mood. Shaking his head he asked for a moment so he could get dressed and she bounced out of the room and closed the door that led to the stairs. After getting dressed Harry headed upstairs where Beldaran was talking to the twins. When she saw him enter the small blond ran over to him and hugged him tightly which he gladly returned.

"Alright, now, who are you supposed to marry?" He asked after he stepped back. He saw the girl as a little sister so the gods better help this man if he ever did anything to hurt her in any fashion. As a matter a fact, Belgarath had better have some protection as well since he certainly agreed to the arrangement.

"King Riva Irongrip." She answered in a dreamy sort of voice. Harry's jaw nearly dropped to the floor and his eyes went wide.

"Wha…um, I mean…How did this happen?" It was only natural that this question come to mind since Belgarath hadn't left the Vale and no one had come by as far as he knew.

"Aldur visited father in his dreams and told him that a joining of our two families was needed so I'm going to marry a king." She gasped out in her excitement.

"Thank the gods." Harry said as he sighed deeply causing the twins and Beldaran to look at him in confusion. Seeing their expressions he couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm going to miss you terribly but I don't think the world could handle Polgara reproducing. No offence meant to you and Belgarath of course." At the mention of her sister's name Beldaran's face showed only a hint of sadness and it didn't take a genius to figure out the cause. The two sisters have always been extremely close but the last couple of years have been hard on both of them. First Beldaran chose to welcome their father back with open arms after being gone for most of their lives and then she chose to befriend Harry which Polgara saw as a great betrayal. Her refusal to except her sister's relationship with the two men had driven a wedge between them since she absolutely refused to stay in any room with them so more often than not she spent her days in the old oak tree in the center of the Vale with her bird friends. And apparently that is exactly where she was now. She had been enraged that her father would arrange a marriage without their consent and at Beldaran for accepting such an offer.

Personally, Harry didn't like the girl one bit but she meant a great deal to Beldaran so he planned on talking to the girl to try to end all of this foolishness but Beltira and Belkira found out and stopped him before he could make the situation worse. It might appear, given their personalities, that Polgara was the dominant of the two but in reality it was the other way around. To Polgara the world revolved around Beldaran and the most important thing in her life was her sister's approval. What she possibly saw in both Belgarath and Harry, besides her anger at her father being absent all her life, was competition for Beldaran's affections and now this wedding would take Beldaran from her completely. Even as the twins explained this to Harry his feelings for the girl still didn't change one bit.

But despite what other people might think about the situation, the important thing was that she was happy with the idea of marrying Riva. He still found the idea of an arranged marriage a bit disturbing but it wasn't his choice to make and since this wasn't his world it wasn't his place to make judgments like that. This was their home, he had to adapt to them not the other way around.

Beldaran started making her wedding dress almost immediately and must have gone through a dozen different patterns. She had managed to recruit Harry to help her although mostly he just held things for her since this was an important piece of clothing for her and he didn't want to be responsible for messing it up. He had slipped out on her for a bit of a break and was now standing with Belgarath at the base of his tower while they sipped on mugs of some wine type concoction that he was fond of making. The two were talking about inconsequential matters when they took note of two men riding towards them on horseback. There was about two and half feet of snow on the ground at the moment and Algar horses were still quite small so it looked a great deal like two large dogs with men on their backs.

"_Ho, Belgarath," _One greeted the old man at Harry's side. _"Why are you still here?"_

"_Because it's still winter."_

"_Oh, It's not all that bad. Riva's getting impatient to meet the girl he's going to marry."_

"_How did he find out about it?"_

"_He had another one of those dreams."_ Riva periodically had dreams of his god Belar that would give him instructions or information. One dream he has had over and over again since they stole the Orb from Torak and that dream has shown him the image of young woman with long blond hair and a smile that would put the beauty of the heavens to shame. Beldaran.

"_Oh, who's your friend?"_

"_His name's Gelheim. He's a sort of artist. Riva wants a picture of his bride._

"_He knows what she looks like. He's been dreaming about her for the last fifteen years._

"_He just wants to be sure you picked the right one, I guess."_

"_I don't think Belar or Aldur would have let me make a mistake, do you?"_

"_You never know, sometimes the gods are a little strange. Have you got anything to drink?"_

"I'll introduce you to the twins. They make fairly good beer. They're Alorns so they know how it's doneThey should have some because I'm afraid that my companion and I don't have enough for everyone." It was only about this time that the two men seemed to realize Harry was even there as he leaned up against Belgarath's tower as he sipped at his mug.

"Haldar, this is Anrak, Riva's cousin. Anrak, this is Haldar, he's an, apprentice, of mine you could say."

"Really? What does Belgarath teach you?" Anrak asked in anticipation at meeting another sorcerer.

"Folk dancing!" Harry answered simply with a raised eyebrow. Anrak looked confused for a brief moment before he and his friend, Gelheim, nearly collapsed in peals of laughter. Harry could only look at them as if they were crazy, seriously, it wasn't that funny. Despite their obviously loose hold on reality, Harry decided almost immediately that he liked these two men. There was just something about them that was hard to explain. They seemed 'real' to him that he never would have expected from the nobility of his home world. Beldaran seemed to instantly like the two men as well but the opposite could be said for Polgara.

"_I thought you had two daughters." Riva's cousin said to Belgarath one morning when he came by after breakfast._

"_Yes," the old man told him. "She's a little unhappy with me right now, she's living in a tree."_

"_It doesn't sound to me as if she's quite right in the head. Does she look like her sister?"_

"_Not much, no."_

"_I thought they were twins."_

"_That doesn't always mean that they look alike."_

"_Where's this tree of hers?_

"_Down in the center of the Vale."_

"_I think I'll go down and have a look at her. If Riva's going to get married, maybe I should too." _Beldaran giggled and Harry laughed outright. That was about the funniest thing he had heard all winter.

"_What's so funny, Pretty?" He asked Beldaran. It was his favorite nickname for her._

"_I don't think my sister's the marrying kind, Anrak. You can suggest it to her, if you'd like, but leave yourself plenty of running room when you do."_

"_Oh, she can't be that bad." _Unlike Harry, Beldaran had the good manners to conceal her smirk as she gave Anrak directions to Polgara's tree and his eyes still looked startled when he came back to Belgarath's tower some time later.

"_Unfriendly, isn't she?" He noted mildly. "Is she always that dirty?"_

"_My sister doesn't believe in bathing." Beldaran replied._

"_She doesn't particularly have good manners either. I could probably clean her up, but that mouth of hers could cause some problems. I'm not even sure what some of those words mean."_

"_What did you say to set her off?"_ Harry asked curiously.

"_I was honest," Anrak replied with a shrug. "I told her that Riva and I usually did things together, and that as long as he was going to get married, I might as well too, and since she wasn't attached…" He scratched at his beard. "That's about as far as I got, actually." He looked slightly injured. "I'm not used to having people laugh at me. It was a perfectly honorable suggestion. It wasn't as if I made an improper proposal." He went across the room to look into Beldaran's mirror. "Is there something wrong with my beard?" He asked. "It looks alright to me."_

"_Polgara's not particularly partial to beards, Anrak." Belgarath explained._

"Polgara's not particularly partial to much of anything." Harry added and got whacked on the arm by Beldaran for his troubles.

"_She didn't have to be so insulting though, did she? Do I really look like a rat hiding in a clump of bushes?"_

"_Polgara exaggerates sometimes." _Beldaran told him even as she was glaring at Harry for laughing_. "She takes a little getting used to."_

"_I don't think it would work out." He decided after a bit of thought. "I'm not trying to be insult you, Belgarath, but you left a lot of bark on that one when you were raising her. If I decide that I really want to get married, t thing I'll choose a nice Alorn girl. Sorcerese girls are a little too complicated for me."_

"_Sorcerese?" Both Belgarath and Harry asked in confusion._

"_Isn't that what your race is called?"_

"_It's more of a profession than a race, Anrak. Every child in the world was born with the same odds at being able to control their will as Polgara did. As a matter a fact, Polgara is the only one that I can think of that was born to parents that had the same talents."_

"_Oh, I didn't know that."_

_Gelheim drew several pictures of Beldaran and then left a few days later with instructions from Anrak to let Riva know that they would be along in the spring._

Anrak spent most of his time in the twins' towers, partially because he and Harry got along so well and partially because the twins made really good beer. Harry learned a lot from the man, details that Belgarath had left out while giving Harry his abbreviated rundown on what was going on in the world.

After Belgarath essentially broke up the Alorn kingdom, Bearshoulders and his oldest two sons took up different methods to protect Riva and the Orb of Aldur. Algar of course was breeding his horses and training his men to fight on horseback while Cherek himself had built fleets of war boats that Belgarath had designed and was patrolling the waters around the Isle of the Winds where Riva had built a massive citadel that over looked the only place a boat could land. Personally, Anrak thought the citadel was a bit overdone but he couldn't deny that it seemed to be impregnable. The Orb itself was kept on the pummel of Riva's massive sword that was crafted out of two pieces of Iron that Belar had caused to fall out of the sky. For the most part Dras was dealing with the Nadraks that had started to settle in the land on his eastern border and there had already been several small skirmishes.

Two months later the weather cleared up enough to where Belgarath was comfortable taking his daughters on the long journey. In that time, Beldaran had finished her wedding dress for about the fifth time and Harry had no doubt that once they reached the coastal town of Camaar in north western Arendia she would dismantle it and begin again, if she waited that long. It took them a bit of time to get ready, primarily because Polgara was acting like a spoiled child. She had made no secret of the fact that she did not approve of this wedding so she was refusing to go. Beldaran quickly changed her mind. No one really knows what the sisters said to each other but judging by the expression on Beldaran's face when she went to find her sister it wasn't going to be pleasant. Harry would have paid good money to see that confrontation since his young friend rarely lost her temper but his respect for her kept him from finding some way to eavesdrop.

It wasn't long after that they left the Vale on horses that Algar Fleetfoot had sent for them. Beldaran was a little disappointed because the twins wouldn't be going with them because they both needed someone to stay in the Vale and also the two saintly old men were not comfortable around large groups of strangers. They skirted the western border of Algaria for sometime until they made it through a pass in the mountains north of Ulgoland and entered Arendia where they made their way to Muros. Throughout the entire journey, Harry periodically changed form into a hawk and flew over the countryside to make sure that his horse did not get exhausted. No one really believed him though since in just the past fifteen years the Algars had breed some of the finest horses in the world, though they were still small and there was still room for improvement. The real reason for these flights was the same reason Beldin did it. He just loved to fly. The fact that the countryside was lush and green and wasn't dominated by factories and towering iron and concrete cities was a big plus as well.

Once they reached Muros, Anrak went on ahead to send word to Riva that they were nearly there. While there, Polgara was growing increasingly moody, even for her, which wasn't exactly helping Harry's own anxieties. Neither Beldaran nor Polgara had ever been out of the Vale so they were naturally nervous. Although he had gone into southern Algaria on occasion there was a big difference between seeing an Algar clan out in the wide open plains of Algaria and being in a town surrounded by buildings and the noise of people going about whatever business they may have. Muros wasn't much of a town but it was still infinitely different than what he was used to.

The next day Belgarath hired a carriage to take them the rest of the way to Camaar. When he saw the port city they were approaching, Harry's nervousness grew more pronounced. Compared to Camaar, Muros was only a little hovel, though he was better at hiding his discomfort than the two young women with him. Belgarath had paid for a set of rooms for their use at a fairly nice inn in the center of town, making a point to avoid the waterside taverns that he spent so much time in after his wife died.

Anrak found them at the inn sometime later with news that Riva was on his way. Apparently the king was very excited to final meet the woman he's been dreaming about for half his life and had crowded so much sail onto the Cherek war boat that was bringing him to the mainland that many of the sailors were worried that the masts would rip up out of the deck. Whether or not Riva noticed anything on his way up from the docks was debatable but when he arrived at the inn and nearly crashed through the door to the rooms they were using he certainly noticed Beldaran. In fact that was all he noticed.

Since they left the Vale Beldaran had planned exactly what she was going to say to him. Having heard an awful lot about Alorns, and meeting a few of them himself, Harry thought it was a bit much but that didn't seem to matter considering she forgot every word the moment he walked through the door. The two didn't say a word all afternoon, they simply stared at each other. Seeing the look of absolute love and devotion on the monarch's face, Harry decided that he wouldn't have to hurt him. Considering how big the man was he would have been hard pressed to get the man's attention much less hurt him anyway. He was around thirty five years old with long black hair and a black beard. The man must have been seven feet tall, at least, and that height didn't go to waist with him being skinny like most really tall people Harry had known. After almost an hour of silence, Harry thought he was going to be sick with all the naked emotion in the room so he quietly left.

"Where you headed, Haldar?" Harry jumped about a foot in the air and spun around to see Beldin exiting the room as well.

"I planned to go downstairs a find some beer. I love Beldaran as if she were my own sister but seeing the lovesick expression on those two faces, not to mention the look of pure loathing on Polgara's, was beginning to make me nauseous."

"I know what you mean. Love is just fine to read about in stories but in reality it just fuddles your mind and eventually drives you mad." The hunchback said before looking back at the door and shaking his head. "Let's go get that beer." Though it wasn't anywhere near as good, or as strong for that matter, as the beer the twins made, the two of them managed to put a good sized dent in the inn's ale supply and when Anrak joined them the manager was nearly ready to have a stroke but calmed down when Beldin told him that Belgarath would pay him handsomely upon their departure. Harry had long since forgiven the old man for his deception involving Polgara when he first arrived but he rarely let an opportunity to stick it to him slip by, though he wasn't malicious about like Polgara was, and leaving him with an enormous tab appealed to him for some reason. Apparently Beldin and Anrak felt the same. They had been at it for a good three or four hours when Belgarath entered the tap room with a small smile on his face. It probably wouldn't last if he found out that he was paying for their beer so they kept their mouths shut until he had something to say.

"_Go find a dressmaker." He told Anrak after a brief moment._

"_A what?"_

"_Polgara wants a new dress."_

"_What's wrong with the one she's got?"_

"_Just do it, Anrak, don't argue with me. Oh, she wants a comb and a brush as well. The dressmaker should be able to tell you where to find them." The Alorn looked mournfully into his half full tankard. "Now, Anrak." He sighed and went on out._

"_What's this all about?" Beldin asked._

"_Polgara's had a change of heart. She doesn't want to look like an abandoned bird's nest any more."_

"_What brought this on?"_ Harry asked curiously.

"_I haven't got any idea, and I'm not going to ask. If she wants to look like a girl instead of a haystack, that's up to her."_

"_You're in a peculiar humor." Beldin commented._

"_I Know." Belgarath said before jumping into the air and cheering exultantly._

_Everyone was stunned when Polgara came into the room the next morning. The plain dress she wore was blue. Her long, dark hair was pulled back rather severely and tied at the nape of her neck. Now that she was clean, they saw that her skin was very fair, much like her sister's, and she was startlingly beautiful. It was the way she carried herself, however, that took them all by surprise. Even at sixteen, Polgara was as regal as any queen._

Harry almost groaned at the injustice in the world. Although he tried his best to avoid her, and her him, he actually knew her fairly well. He had plenty of experience with people with attitude problems. When she was a disgusting, filthy little beast, she would resort to snide comments and foul language but Harry could see in her eyes that it was not only her physical appearance that she had changed. She looked quite comfortable with her new appearance so she would certainly adapt her personality to fit that mold. No doubt she would abandon sinking to such levels as foul language and name calling and try to be more subtle. Despite the fact that she was now much easier on the eyes, she still had that cold, callous look in her eyes that only softened when she looked at Beldaran, though Harry noticed that the penetrating glares that she sent her father held much less hostility than they did just the day before.

Later that same day, they set out of Camaar for the Isle of the Winds on Riva's ship. Having never been on a boat before, Harry was understandably nervous but he was quickly assured by Riva himself that the ship could take quite a beating without sustaining much damage. When first meeting the man after he recovered from his love induced stupor he was at a loss as to how he was supposed to behave around the youngest of the Alorn monarchs. That dilemma was easily solved when Riva joined Harry on deck with a tankard in his hand. He leaned up against the railing near where Harry was standing and the two just remained silent for some time. Harry had been standing at the bow drinking ale himself as he watched the boat cut through the water with relative ease. The partial confinement that the last leg of their journey consisted of provided Harry with a great deal of time to think and it didn't really hit him until then that his only friend would soon be gone. Granted, Belgarath and the twins were pleasant enough company and Beldin isn't bad if you ignore his almost constant bad mood and disgusting eating habits but the fact remained that they were all old men and couldn't really relate to an eighteen year old. The only one anywhere near the Vale that could was Polgara and boy was that a depressing thought.

"So, Beldaran tells me that your home is far away from here." Riva began in a tone that was almost as uncomfortable as Harry felt with the other man nearby but Harry shook that off as he turned to the man with his eyes wide in shock at Beldaran's betrayal of his trust and privacy.

"Why did she tell you?" Harry asked with genuine anger in his voice.

"We decided that we didn't want to keep any secrets from each other and this was a pretty big one considering you are her only friend, other than Polgara, of course. She told me that because she wanted me to understand who you were as well as why you are important to her. Actually, to be perfectly honest, when she first told me about your friendship I jumped to all the wrong conclusions and became jealous so she had to 'straighten me out' as she put it. She fully expects you to visit her now and then so she figured it would be much easier if you didn't have to risk getting thrown into the dungeons to do so." Harry blinked at the large man for a moment before chuckling in amusement.

The thought of a king being jealous of him was just absolutely hilarious although he couldn't really blame the man. He did, after all, live in the Vale for over two and half years with probably one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen and now the man in front of him was marrying said girl. It was only natural for him to feel some form of jealousy or envy for the time that he had already spent with Beldaran.

After Harry regained control over himself, Riva had one of the sailors refill their mugs and asked Harry to describe his home just as Beldaran and the others had. Harry tried to explain everything he could although some things were hard to explain like muggle technology and some aspects of the different forms of government since they had no such technology here and the closest thing to a democracy was the Tolnedrian Empire which has a committee that chooses a new emperor when one dies without a legitimate heir. Of course they don't choose based on public opinion but rather who pays them the most.

They stood there talking for several hours and despite an almost twenty year age difference they seemed to get along just fine. He was a relaxed and casual type of person and he may have been nearly forty years old by now but Harry could still see that almost childlike innocence in him that Belgarath had described to him when he was telling him how they had stolen the Orb from Torak. That wasn't to say that the man was stupid or somehow mentally incapable, he was just, different, than most of the people Harry had met. Actually, Riva reminded Harry of himself. Anyone that had at least one eye could see that the man didn't really want to be a king but he was giving up his freedom so that the Orb could be protected. As a matter of fact he seemed like he would be happier as a gardener rather than a king. Kingship was just something that was thrust upon him and it was something he couldn't turn down.

Although he was certainly not a king, being the bloody 'Boy-Who-Lived' placed an awful lot of responsibility and expectations on his shoulders that was absolutely ridiculous. All his life he just wanted to be normal, to fit in. But no, he couldn't even have that now, could he?

Harry shook his head slightly to get his thoughts away from such thoughts but unfortunately that was one that was constantly cropping up and he doubted that that would be the last time it would do so.

The journey from Camaar to the Isle of the Winds took them two days time and as they got closer Harry could certainly understand why Anrak would find the citadel, known as the Hall of the Rivan King, that overlooked the wharf so imposing. It was absolutely massive and from what he could tell it could be defended from any form of attack and could easily launch its own. The citadel and the small city that surrounded it were constructed entirely out of a dark grey stone with roofs made of slate which gave the city a terribly dreadful feel to it. Harry was sure that the almost constant year round overcast skies didn't do much to help their tourist season either. When they finally arrived at the docks most of the island's residents came down from out of the city to greet their king and to see their new queen whom Riva hovered over protectively.

"Oh sweet Merlin." Harry mumbled to himself when he noticed where many of the young noblemen were concentrating their attention. They had apparently noticed Polgara as well as Beldaran. 'Great, now she's going to be absolutely impossible to be around.' He thought to himself. The last thing he needed was for Polgara to become arrogant and self centered, well, more than she already was, anyway. Name calling and swearing he could deal with, but when someone begins talking down to him as if he were some inconsequential insect that did not deserve their attention he really starts to get pissed. She may have cleaned all of the dirt off of her but Harry was a firm believer that people never really change, they merely change their methods. It seemed that Belgarath was nervous by this fact as well but for entirely different reasons. He and Polgara didn't really get along but she was still his daughter after all.

For most of their first week in the city of Riva, (that's right, the city was named after him), Harry spent most of his time on his own or with Anrak since Belgarath spent all his time making sure the young nobles on the island didn't make any 'inappropriate' advances on Polgara. Harry rather enjoyed himself as the older man showed him around the citadel and around the surrounding town. One thing he noticed almost immediately was that despite the bleak look of his surroundings and rather predictable wet atmosphere that hung almost constantly over the Isle of the Winds, the people themselves, clad in their grey wool cloaks and gowns to hold off the chill, were far more 'colorful' than one would imagine when first meeting them and seeing their seemingly depressing city.

Certainly the most impressive site was obviously the Sword of the Rivan King. It was the massive sword that Riva crafted after he arrived on the Isle of the Winds and it held the Orb of Aldur on its pummel. The sword itself was hanging on the wall behind Riva's throne and if he didn't know any better he would have thought the thing was strictly ornamental. But taking Riva's size and strength into consideration it was perfectly within the realm of possibility that he could wield the thing in battle with some skill.

To be perfectly honest, Harry was shocked the first time he laid eyes on the Orb. He was only really told about the power it could have and a general description. From the whole 'wrath of god' like image Belgarath had stuck in his head he pictured the thing being as big as one of Professor Trelawney's stupid crystal balls and burning with blue fire, striking down anyone that came near it. The real thing was kind of a let down. It was about the size of a plum and except for the fact that a dim blue light pulsed periodically within the thing it could easily be mistaken for a really big blue marble. That is what Harry had thought about it, until that blue light got brighter of course and landed directly on him.

"Don't worry, it does that sometimes." Anrak told him but Harry wasn't listening. All Harry could hear was what sounded like a quiet musical note and despite the mental defenses he had established after much practice he could tell that they did nothing to block the presence that he now felt in his mind. He knew immediately that he was in no danger but it was still unnerving to have someone, or something, moving through your mind with the subtlety of a first year Gryffindor.

"Damn!" He muttered as he massaged the sides of his head after the music had stopped and the Orb's light retreated.

"Riva tells me that the Orb likes to do that when it's around new people sometimes. Sort of feels them out."

"It was like a child's mind, a very powerful child."

"What?"

"The Orb has a consciousness of its own, in a manner of speaking it's alive but its understanding seems to be that of a child." Harry explained as he shook his head. "Recently I've been able to keep my mind hidden from even Belgarath, only Aldur and Belar have been able to find me but knowing that something other than the Gods can get into my mind makes me nervous." He said as he moved away from the wall.

"You've spoken to the Gods? Other than Aldur, I mean." Anrak asked in excitement. Since they had gotten to be good friends, and Beldaran had already told Riva, Harry decided to tell Anrak where he really came from. To say he was surprised would be a supreme understatement but after that wore off he became very curious but unlike the others that knew, he only seemed interested in a few things. Among those things being women, of course.

"Belar is the only other god I've spoken to so far."

"What do they say to you?"

"Well, I see them in my dreams every now and then. Aldur likes talks to me about how I'm doing, what I've learned, that sort of thing. I know he could easily look into my every memory without my knowledge if he wished to but he seems to prefer to keep your mind to yourself unless absolutely needed. He strikes me as the, concerned, loving grandfather type. Belar is _certainly_ different. He's the youngest of the gods and he certainly acts like it. I'm sure you have heard of what Belar is like, he likes women and loves a good fight, which is probably why you Alorns appealed to him. I've only spoken to him once, about a year ago. He started out seriously, telling me that I had a part to play in 'battles to come'. I thought it was a bit redundant to say that since Aldur had already told me that but I think he just threw that in there as an excuse to talk to me to ask about other things. Like 'wrenching' as he called it and whether or not I've killed any Angaraks yet. He actually reminds me of you really."

While in town during their forth day on the island, Anrak took Harry to a blacksmith, at his request, and asked him to make him a sword and two long daggers that would be _perfectly_ balanced for him. When the man asked if he had the money to pay for them, Harry just handed the man three galleons without a word.

"Where did these coins come from?" The blacksmith asked with narrowed eyes after inspecting them for a few minutes.

"Does it matter?" Harry asked with a shrug of his shoulders. "Each of those coins is two ounces of the finest and purest gold you'll ever find so I'm sure they will be enough to cover any expenses." After looking the coins over once more the man nodded in agreement before measuring the length of Harry's arms, his height, getting his weight and finally having him try out a number of different blades that he already had made to get an idea of what style and weight would be best for him. He and his companion were preparing to leave when a young woman suddenly came up behind him and began measuring him once again. Harry looked at her in surprise for a moment before turning back to the blacksmith and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"She's not mine." He replied in bewilderment. Apparently he was just as confused as Harry and Anrak at the girl's sudden appearance.

"Lady Beldaran sent me to get your measurements for your new doublet." The girl explained without pausing in her work.

"Hey, wait a minute." Harry said as he took several steps away from the girl. "I understand that this is a very important occasion for her but I refuse to wear one of those ridiculous things." He said firmly as he thought about the stupid Shakespearian type outfits some of the nobles seemed so fond of wearing to impress each other. He'd be damned if he was caught in something like that.

"_Please."_ Beldaran pleaded when he returned to the citadel later that day. She was standing in front of him with large bright eyes and her bottom lip began to tremble slightly.

"DAMNIT!" Harry shouted as he entered the room he was staying in. No man on earth could say no to that face. It just wasn't fair. It should be illegal.

MMM

"Jesus Christ!" Harry muttered to himself when an entire fleet of Cherek war boats arrived in the harbor a few days later. It wasn't the size or the numbers of the ships that left him almost speechless but rather the size of the three men that Riva was currently introducing to him, Beldaran and Polgara. Now Riva was almost seven feet tall but it seemed he was the runt of the litter when taking into account the size of the rest of his family. His brother Algar was just a bit taller than him and was lean with well toned muscle that reflected his name of Fleetfoot. Algar was the silent type and so he didn't say much at all but the look in his eyes corrected anyone who found this trait to be a sign of stupidity.

Dras Bullneck also lived up to his name. He easily put to shame every bodybuilder Harry had ever seen. He appeared to be nice enough although he was clearly not the most intelligent of people. But as large as these three men were none of them could match the size and physical power of their father. He was in his late fifties, or early sixties, and his beard and hair was graying but he still exuded the strength and stamina of a man half his age.

The wedding was held a few weeks later in Riva's throne room, which probably wasn't the best place to have a wedding but Riva wanted to do it in the presence of the Orb and he thought it would be a little inappropriate to wear his sword during the ceremony. The doublet that was made for Harry was a dark scarlet red with gold embroidery and even though he was not happy about wearing it he decided that it wasn't that bad. Much to Beldaran's disappointment Harry chose to remain at the back of the room during the ceremony since he wasn't really family and didn't feel right being up front even though Belgarath and Riva assured him it would be alright. Polgara was very pleased with his decision.

Beldaran was even more beautiful than usual and her white dress complemented her pale skin perfectly as she walked down the isle with a small contented smile on her face. Even though he always found the stereotypical female reaction to weddings laughable, Harry had unshed tears in his eyes as he smiled warmly at her as she passed which she gladly returned. To be perfectly honest, Harry didn't understand a damn thing the High Priest of Belar said during the ceremony but it was clear that the man adored the sound of his own voice.

Once the wedding and the seemingly endless parties had died down, Beldin decided to take advantage of the fact that they had all four of the Alorn kings together and try to get some work done since there were things going on in the world other than Riva and Beldaran's wedding. Both Harry and Polgara attended this meeting at Belgarath's insistence since, according to Aldur, Harry was involved somehow and he didn't want Polgara wandering around the citadel without his supervision incase any of the love sick young noblemen got any ideas.

_They spent most of their time talking about the Angaraks. None of them were happy about their presence on this side of the Sea of the East but there wasn't very much they could do about it at the moment. The distances were simply to great._

"_I could probably go into that forest to the east of the moors and burn down those cities the Nadraks are building there," Dras rumbled in that deep voice of his. "But there wouldn't be much point to it. I don't have the manpower to occupy all that wilderness. Sooner or later I would have to pull out, and then the Nadraks would just come back out of the woods and rebuild."_

"_Have there been any contacts with them?" Polgara asked._

_He shrugged. "A few skirmishes is about all. Every so often they come out of the mountains, and then we chase them back. I don't think they're very serious about it. They're probably just testing our defenses."_

"_I meant peaceful contacts."_

"_There's no such thing as peaceful contacts between Alorns and Angaraks, Polgara."_

"_Perhaps there should be."_

"_I think that's against our religion."_

"_Maybe you should consider that. I understand that the Nadraks are merchants. They might be interested in trade."_

"_I don't think they've got anything I'd want."_

"_Oh, yes they do, Dras. They've got information about the Murgos, and they're the ones we're really interested in. If anyone's going to cause us trouble, it'll be the Murgos. If we can find out from the Nadraks what they're doing, we won't have to go down to Rak Goska to investigate for ourselves."_

"_She's got a point, Dras." Algar told his brother. "My people have had a few contacts with the Thulls, but you can't get very much information out of a Thull. From what I hear, the Nadraks don't care very much for the Murgos, so they probably wouldn't mind passing information along."_

"Sorry to interrupt," Harry spoke up from where he was sitting against the wall. "But any information you get from the Nadraks, no matter how important, should be treated as just speculation."

"Why do you say that, Haldar?" Riva asked as everyone else looked at Harry waiting for an answer.

"That is relatively simple. Torak."

"Haldar, at the moment Torak is held up in Mallorea spouting out prophecies. Zeder is there with him, taking down every word." Beldin said.

"I know that, but sooner or later he will come out of it and that is a fact that ALL of the Angaraks are well aware of. Think of what Torak would do to them when he comes to his senses only to find that some of his people are giving information to the enemy. The Nadraks may hate the Murgos as much as you Alorns do, but they still serve Torak. By all means, try and offer them trade and take what information you can get but be sure to confirm everything and not simply except it at face value, take the time to confirm it before acting. In time, you may very well develop a peaceful relationship with them. But if you're expecting them to actively work against the Murgos or Torak you will be waiting a very long time. Making a god your enemy because of a simple grudge would be a very hard, not to mention stupid, thing to do."

"Both Polgara and Haldar are right." Beldin said after a few moments of silence. "Have you had any contacts with the Murgos?" The hunchback asked Algar.

"_There are a few ravines that cut down through the Eastern Escarpment, they're steep but passable. The Murgos patrol the western frontier of Mishrak ac Thull and every so often one of those patrols comes down onto the plains of Algaria, usually to steal horses. We'd rather they didn't do that, so we chase them back." He smiled faintly. "Its easier to let them find those ravines for us than to go looking for them ourselves."_

"_There's a thought," Dras noted. "If the Murgos are interested in good horses, couldn't we interest them in trade, too?"_

_Algar shook his head. "Not Murgos, no. Their minds don't work like that. One of my Clan-Chiefs questioned a Thull who actually knew his right hand from his left. The Thull said that Ctuchik is at Rak Goska. As long as he's dominating Murgo society, there will be no peaceful contacts with them."_

"_We're going to have to work through the Nadraks then," Beldin sighed. _"But heed Haldar's warning when dealing with them." He said as he squinted up at the ceiling. _"I don't think this Angarak migration poses much of a threat, at least not yet. There weren't all that many people at Cthol Mishrak to begin with and Ctuchik has got them spread pretty thin. The real threat is still in Mallorea. I think I'll go back there and keep an eye on things. The Angaraks on this continent are just an advance party. They're probably here to build supply dumps and staging areas. You won't have to start sharpening your swords until the Malloreans start coming across the sea. I'll keep my ear to the ground and let you know when the military moves north out of Mal Zeth towards the land bridge in the north."_

"_I think we might want to establish closer ties with the Tolnedrans and the Arends. We might need their help with the Malloreans." Polgara said with pursed lips._

"_The Tolnedrans wouldn't help unless we paid them to," Cherek disagreed. "And the Arends are too busy fighting each other."_

"_They live here to Bearshoulders, I don't think they'd want the Malloreans on this content any more than we would. The Legions would be very helpful and the Arends have been training for war since Torak split the world." _The discussion went on for a little while longer before Cherek suggested that it may be time for them to think about getting home. There were preparations to make if war was coming.

"Belgarath, I'm going to take Haldar with me." Beldin announced the next morning when they were preparing to leave. Harry looked at the man in surprise, and even eagerness.

"Why's that?" Belgarath asked in confusion.

"For one thing, he could easily pass for an Angarak with the right facial expressions and he can hold a halfway decent conversation. Besides, if we happen to be around Mal Yaska, I might just send the boy in to have a discussion with Urvon and hopefully flush him out of his hole." Beldin explained with a very nasty grin.

"Why would you need me to flush him out?"

"The last time the two of us spoke I threatened to pull his guts out with a white hot hook. Unfortunately we were interrupted before I could finish the job. My description has been circulating for a hundred miles in every direction of Mal Yaska for years now."

"Colorful." Harry commented. There were nicer people in the world than Beldin. Both Harry and Belgarath suspected that Urvon was not the only Disciple of Torak that Beldin was hoping to come across. He would give just about anything for a chance at Zeder as well. To be perfectly honest, Harry was ecstatic about going with him. He had no desire to sit around in the Vale by himself. Sure, Belgarath and the twins were pleasant enough company but without Beldaran there it would just seem empty somehow. While it was true he would be in much the same situation in Mallorea, with only Beldin for company but at least things would be happening to take his mind off the fact that his only friend was out of reach.

Saying goodbye to Beldaran as well as Riva and Anrak was certainly not best moment in Harry's life. He was actually surprised at how emotional he got. He didn't cry, but it took and awful lot of restraint. Before leaving Harry stopped by the blacksmiths shop to pick up his sword and daggers. The sword was a saber and the blade itself was a little bit longer than his arm. It didn't look very special at all but when he picked it up it felt perfect. The daggers were plain with nine inch straight blades and the handles were comfortably made. He thanked the blacksmith once again before meeting Beldin just south of the docks. The two of them were going to fly, which was just fine by Harry, while Belgarath and Polgara sailed back to the mainland on Bearshoulders' ship.

"Alright boy, remember to conserve your energy, you don't want to exhaust yourself and splash down into that water. I'm not a very good swimmer so if you do, you're on your own." Harry just nodded with a smirk and the two shifted form and took off.

TBC


	5. Mallorea

**AN: **Just like in the last chapter any passages in _italics _comes from 'Belgarath the Sorcerer' with little or no changes from myself.

A **league** is a term that measures distance. One league equals three miles.

_**TO END ALL WARS**_

_**By **_

_**Padfootjr24**_

_**Chapter Five: Mallorea **_

Harry absolutely loved flying, it was probably his favorite thing to do. It was the only time that he felt that he was truly free. However, this fact did not stop him from cursing every deity known to man for this ability when he and Beldin made it to the northwestern coast of Arendia some five hours after taking flight from the city of Riva on the Isle of the Winds. Harry was currently lying flat on his back and just gazed up at the sky as he gasped for breath and tried to get his heart rate under control. Even with all the Quiditch practices and battles with Voldemort and his Death Eaters he was pretty sure that he had never once been so thoroughly exhausted before in his life.

"They don't call it the Sea of the Winds for nothing, do they, boy?" Beldin chuckled sarcastically as he looked down at the young man with amusement. And that was a fact. The distance between the island and the mainland wasn't really that great, in fact he had flown even further on several occasions. What had proven to be the problem were the strong gusts of wind that tore through the area almost constantly. It took all his strength and willpower to stay in the air for every second.

"Nope, nope, never again." Harry grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Well, you have your choice, Haldar. You can either spend two days cooped up on a ship or you can withstand a few hours of mild discomfort."

"Mild discomfort?" Harry exclaimed in annoyance. "There were a few times were I thought that my wings were going to be ripped off."

"It's all about practice. Until now you have only flown within the Vale or across the plains of Algaria and Arendia. The weather in those areas are rarely as severe as it is over the sea or up in the mountains. Either way you should probably get used to flying in bad weather because there will be times when you have no other choice. Now, why don't you go find us something for supper." The dwarf finished as leaned back against a rock to get comfortable. Harry just huffed and wandered off in search of something edible while Beldin relaxed. He liked the deformed man a great deal but the fact that he could rarely win an argument with him annoyed him to no end.

When he arrived back at their small campsite about an hour after sunset with three fat rabbits daggling from his hands, he found Beldin kneeling down next to a pathetic excuse for a campfire writing something into the dirt with a look of intense concentration on his face. Beldin was easily the most intelligent man that Harry had ever known. He could solve most problems he was likely to come across without much thought so Harry was naturally curious as to what he was working through that would required so much concentration. Choosing to simply let it go for now, he simply dropped one of the rabbits next to the man and turned back to the fire in time to hear Beldin rip into the rabbit with a grunt of acknowledgment. Cringing slightly at the man's disgusting eating habits, Harry set about preparing his dinner as he tried to ignore the sound of tearing flesh and teeth grinding on bones.

"Not bad." Beldin commented with a belch. "Rabbit is alright when there is nothing else but don't get too attached to it. It may taste good but it doesn't have many of the nutrients the body needs to survive."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Harry asked in a bored tone that caused the older man to glare across the fire at him.

"Meaning that if that is all you eat then you can literally stave to death on a full belly."

"Ah! So what is that you're working on?" He changed the subject as he pointed at area of cleared ground that he had been writing. Surprisingly, Beldin's ugly face lit up with a grin.

"A conversation I had with Anrak in Camaar got me thinking and I was just trying to work through it."

"And what was this conversation about?" Harry asked in annoyance when it was clear that the man wasn't going to continue unprompted. Beldin loved two things, to annoy people and to show everyone how much smarter he was than everyone else. And if he could do both in the same conversation it was much more enjoyable for him.

"He made an offhand comment about people with out talents being able to stop time whenever they choose. Of course even if we were capable of doing such a thing it would be extremely foolish to do because of the possibility of causing a paradox and in effect ripping the very fabric of reality, since, in effect, you could literally be in two different places at once."

"Riiiggghhhttt." Harry said slowly as he just stared at the man blankly. Beldin seemed very smug about his response.

"I've been thinking about this for a while now and I believe that if that is actually possible then it could also be possible to turn back time and maybe even change what has already happened." He explained in excitement.

"So you plan to try and go back in time to change something, just to see whether or not you can?" This was actually a topic that Harry knew at least a little bit about but he wasn't going to say anything just yet.

"ARE YOU INSANE?" The dwarf yelled as he looked at Harry as if he were a madman. "This is only a theory! If it were possible, just going back could very well destroy the universe. What if you changed something without even knowing it?" Harry could tell that Beldin was about to go on his usual 'just because you can doesn't mean you should' triad that he seemed to give him every time that he thought about trying something he had never done before. Both he and Belgarath seemed to think that he had to know absolutely everything about any given subject before he even thought about trying his hand at the practical aspects. In truth, it was a very reasonable demand considering the damage he could do if he didn't know what he was doing but it still annoyed him.

"I'm not suggesting that we should start fiddling about with time. In fact, I'm of the firm belief that even if you had a means to turn back time, safely mind you, that it would still not be possible to change the course of history."

"Really," Beldin began with narrowed eyes. "And why is that?"

"That is rather simple. The universe is vast, so vast in fact that the human mind couldn't possibly comprehend all its workings. There are literally millions, perhaps billions, of galaxies in the Universe and in those galaxies are made up of millions of solar systems with a countless number of stars and planets. Each one of these bodies is in a constant state of motion so what is to stop one or more of them from colliding. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure it does happen, but what is to prevent them from doing so prematurely?

"It is quite obvious that for an entity like the universe to go on productively as it should, it must have order, and to have that it must have constants. By 'constants' I simply mean things that do not change. I believe that time is one of these constants."

"Time? You have got to be kidding me. For a moment I actually thought you had some descent brains stuffed in that lump of yours. You of all people should know that time is anything but a constant. Time distortions fluctuating all over the universe, changing every minute…"

"I didn't mean time as in the time of day or the season of the year, I meant time as in history, the past, present and future. _That,_ is a constant. Imagine, if you will, the chaos that could ensue, on a cosmic level, if things from our past suddenly began to change. Here is a question for you. If changing the past was possible, don't you think the gods would have already used this ability to end their stalemated war with Torak? Or better still, wouldn't the universe herself have used it to correct this 'accident' that split the future into two equal possibilities instead of placing the end results in the hands of either the 'Child of Light' or the 'Child of Dark'"

"How is it that you came up with that theory within the few moments we have been discussing it?" To prove that time travel was just as much as a reality as it was a theory Harry told him of that specific aspect of his third year in Hogwarts, specifically their work to free Sirius and Buckbeak. Most people would laugh and brush the story off as a poorly told work of fiction but Beldin didn't think of Harry as much of a liar. The hunchback listened and paid close attention to every word.

"Hold on there, Haldar!" He huffed in indignation. "You just contradicted yourself. You already said that you believed it to be impossible to change time, and yet now you claim to have done precisely that."

"No, I didn't. If you remember correctly, I told you that while we were in Hagrid's hut we were alerted to the approach of the Minister, the Ministry executioner and our Headmaster when a rock flew through the window and hit me in the back of the head. It wasn't until later that I found out that that rock was thrown by Hermione, who was waiting behind a concealed position with my 'future self'. Anyway, after we left the hut we didn't see anything more. We heard the ax hit something but given the circumstances I'm sure you can understand what we thought it was.

"Later, after we used the time turner, Hermione and I were now concealed while we waited for our chance to free Buckbeak. With time running out and Fudge on his way Hermione decided to draw there attention so that they would see who was coming. I must admit that I was a bit surprised to learn that it was Hermione that had thrown the rock that collided with the back of my head. If we had indeed changed what was meant to happen then Hermione would never have been outside the hut to hit me with that rock to begin with and I would never have been on the castle grounds to save Sirius and my past self from the Dementors."

"That certainly is an interesting argument. It reminds me of the Ouroboros actually." Beldin commented as he scratched his chin in thought.

"The what?"

"Ouroboros, Haldar. It's an ancient symbol that depicts a serpent swallowing its own tail. It's commonly thought to symbolize a never ending cycle. No beginning and no end."

"Ok, but what does that have to do with this discussion?" Harry asked in confusion.

"What I mean, Haldar, is that according to the events you just described, it is likely that those events are still playing out in some fashion. If you were to have actually spoken to your future self, you would find that he experienced the same events and if he were to ask his future self, he would find the same. The same could be said for speaking to your past self. You would never be able to find where the cycle actually began or where it _should_ eventually end."

They set out again early the next morning and kept moving for most of the day. Harry could have sworn that Beldin got some kind of sick pleasure out of seeing him straggle behind him since he was extremely sore from his nearly tortuous flight over the Sea of the Winds the day before. Even though he was exhausted, Harry still marveled at the beauty of the surrounding countryside. If he had his choice he would never return to the cluttered and polluted world he left behind but unfortunately that apparently wasn't his decision.

Surprisingly, he had thought very little of his friends and his old life in the almost three years since he first came to the Vale but Beldaran's marriage to Riva brought the fact of his isolation from his friends into the forefront of his mind. Despite the fact that Aldur told him that time was currently moving slower on his home world than it was on his current one, the thought that he would be here for several centuries, at least, put doubt into his mind that he would ever see them again. In all honesty, he firmly believed that he would arrive home to find all those he cared for long since dead with a now immortal Voldemort ruling over all that was left. Harry was by no means egotistical or conceded but the thought of all the lives he could possibly have helped save if he had somehow managed to avoid Voldemort's last spell made him feel cold all over.

After nearly a week and a half in the air, they crossed the Drasnian border into Gar OG Nadrak where Beldin almost instantly told Harry to be on his guard at all times since it was his first time in a 'hostile' environment. Harry thought the warning was pretty useless considering they were flying in the form of birds so it wasn't like they were very likely to come across any Nadraks that were looking for a fight.

For the most part Eastern Drasnia was wide open plains with some marshlands that were sparsely populated. But unlike the lush green fields of Algaria to the south, the grass was rough and brown due to the cold artic winds that blew in from the north almost year round. Almost as soon as you crossed the border into Gar OG Nadrak the grasslands turned to rocky hills and thick forests that were inhabited by gold hunters and fur trappers that made their homes along the numerous streams that crisscrossed the rugged terrain.

Observing the many hunters and trappers that they happened across the first few days, Harry figured that for the most part these men gravitated towards that life style simply because they enjoyed the peace and solitude of being alone in the wilderness more than the actual trade. With the exception of the capital city of Yar Nadrak and a few other cities in the south, the kingdom was nothing but untamed wilderness with a number of temporary trading posts that sold supplies to the trappers and bought the furs they had acquired and shipped them south where there was a wider market.

Their journey had been mostly uneventful but as they neared the coast of the Sea of the East this changed drastically. They were flying low over the treetops in mid-afternoon when a nauseating odor caught Harry's attention. Glancing ahead, Beldin seemed to pay no attention to it as if he didn't notice it or, more likely than not, he was used to it. After looking around for a brief moment he noticed a thin column of inky black smoke rising out of the trees a ways off to his left. Thinking that he could easily catch up to Beldin, he decided to find out what was burning that would cause such a putrid stink. Descending into the trees he came upon a sight that would be burnt into his memory for the rest of his life.

In the center of a small clearing, three figures in black robes and polished steel masks were overseeing a barbaric and disgusting ritual that only an extremely twisted mind could possibly consider religious. Four bodies already lay motionless on the ground with gaping holes in the center of their chests. Their hearts were still sizzling on the hot coals of a large bronze brassier. Two of the Grolims were currently holding a man's arms outstretched as he was bent over backwards so that he was draped over the crude stone alter. Mere seconds after he arrived, Harry saw the third 'priest' plunge a large dagger into the man's chest as he chanted in some harsh archaic tongue.

Seeing this senseless brutality caused Harry's commonsense to snap as he landed on the ground to retake human form before withdrawing his own daggers and stalk up behind his prey. All he could think about were the Death Eaters that these men resembled and the pain and anguish that they had caused him and those he held dear. All he saw was Hermione falling to Dolohov's ribbon curse, Neville being held under the Cruciatus curse and Sirius falling through the Veil. His mind replayed the attack on Privet Drive as dozens of innocent people lay dead, murdered, simply because they were born without the ability to use magic.

He knew nothing but absolute fury as he reached forward to pull the first man backwards into a headlock with his left arm as he plunged the dagger in his right hand into the man's chest. The other two Grolims released their _sacrifice's_ arms in surprise but Harry's right arm shot out without warning and before the man could react the blade found a new home in the side of his neck. Harry let his left arm fall and his first victim fell limply to the ground. He could feel the final priest gathering his Will but Harry was quicker and turned his back to leave as the man burst into flames. He paid no attention to his screams as he cleaned off his blade and walked back into the trees.

"Feel better?" Harry's head shot up and he glared at Beldin who was leaning against a tree eyeing him in an appraising fashion.

"Yes, I do." Without another word he gathered his will and shifted back into the form of a hawk and took off into the air without looking back. Beldin's face split into a wicked grin as he looked back at the dead Grolims before turning and following after Harry. When it came to the priests of Torak, he always preferred them dead as opposed to moving around and causing mischief.

In the following two days that it took to reach the coast neither Beldin nor Harry mentioned the confrontation with the Grolims again which was perfectly fine with both of them. Beldin found nothing wrong with the situation while Harry was trying to work through his feelings on the matter. Not only had he killed three men but he was also having trouble with the fact that he seemed to be so good at it. The only consolation he could think of was that the Grolims, in his mind, were just as bad as the Death Eaters, possibly worse. The Death Eaters killed because they enjoyed it and because they believed they were at war and the muggleborns and halfbloods were their enemies. The Grolims, however, killed with great enthusiasm because they thought it was their religious duty to do so. Just the thought was enough to make Harry sick as his head pounded with anger and hatred for both groups.

Despite the fact that they were flying and had no use for it at that time, Beldin led Harry north along the coast towards the land bridge that connected the land of the Morindim, north of Gar OG Nadrak, with Northern Mallorea. Harry was pretty sure that he and Beldin could move about unnoticed but he was still nervous about coming across any Morindim since they were devout demon worshipers. The magicians of various clans would raise demons with complex runes and incantations. These 'safeguards' would lock the demon into whatever shape or likeness the magician chooses and as long as he remains focused the demon must obey his every command. But if he makes even one mistake the demon will break free from his 'prison' and be unleashed upon the world. The magician who raised him is usually the first to be killed. Over all Harry was in no hurry to meet either a demon or those who worship them.

"Will you calm down?" Beldin snapped irritably after they returned to the ground and shifted back to human form. "There isn't a single human being within three leagues of here." Harry looked out over the country side for a few more moments before turning his attention out to the water. What he saw did not inspire confidence. All he saw was many large rocks rising out of the water at irregular intervals.

"THIS, is the land bridge?" He asked incredulously as he waved towards the rocks. "How, pray tell, are we supposed to cross that? Why don't we just fly?"

"We're not flying because the only bird capable of making the trip is the albatross and you don't have any experience with that form as well as the fact that you must get experience navigating it because flying won't always be an option, like if you have other people with you. As to how we're going to cross it, we're going to wait until low tide, when the reef is most out of the water."

"Mostly?"

MMM

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HE'S GONE? WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS HE AND WHY AREN'T YOU OUT LOOKING FOR HIM?" Ron thundered as he looked around the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. When he awoke that morning and went downstairs for breakfast the last thing he expected to hear was that his best friend was missing. When he was first told, his brain seemed to shut down for a moment as he processed that information. Ginny and Hermione had collapsed into a pair of chairs and were sobbing uncontrollably as their respective mothers attempted to console them, although Mrs. Weasley was fairing no better emotionally.

With a heavy sigh, Professor Dumbledore began to explain what had happened on Privet Drive the night before. Everyone was suitably horrified at the sheer amount of destruction that hit the muggle neighborhood and the lives lost but the biggest shock for the students as well as the Order members that were not present the night before came when he explained that Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's most feared and loyal Death Eater, had aided Snape in his vain attempt to rescue Harry.

"Where does that leave us now?" Dedalus Diggle asked in a downcast tone. "There are many that believe that only Potter could have defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. How long he lasted against him last night without any special training should be a testament to that. How can we hope beat him now?" This question left many in deep thought but there were a few that felt nothing but rage, specifically, Harry's friends, the Weasleys, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley and surprisingly Snape. However it was Ron that acted first. His first blow caught the man by surprise and knocked him to the floor

"THAT'S MY FRIEND, NOT YOUR BLOODY WEAPON!" He roared as he continued to kick him in the stomach and chest numerous times before Fred and George were able to pull him away from the man.

"Now there's that aggressive spirit I've missed all these years!" An unknown and powerful voice laughed heartily from the doorway. Being just a little on edge at the moment, many from the Order immediately spun around and fired a wide variety of curses at the intruder but he just looked at the variously colored bursts of energy in amusement as they sped towards him. He made no move to block or avoid the spells and as they impacted numerous parts of his body they seemed to have no effect at all and he lightly brushed off his shirt as if he were simply removing a few bits of dust. Everyone, including Dumbledore, stared in shock at the complete lack of effect the dozen or so curses had on this particular individual.

Physically, he didn't appear to stand out to any great degree. His body was well toned and he stood about six feet tall with long dark brown hair that almost came to his elbows and a thick beard that was short and well groomed. Despite the fact that he appeared to be barely out of his teens, his crystal blue eyes reflected power and wisdom as well as a certain degree of mischievousness. Magically, however, he was anything but ordinary. While he kept his true power tightly under wraps he had no problem letting everyone in the room know that he far surpassed even Albus in the power department.

"Who are you, stranger, and why are you here?" Albus asked politely after he was able to shake off his shock. While the man had mysteriously been able to find and breach their headquarters, he didn't appear to be a genuine threat and they could certainly use another powerful ally so he decided that a certain level of decorum was in order.

"Who I am is inconsequential at this point in time, but if you feel the need to apply labels to feel more at ease, you may call me Belar." The young god answered as he plopped down in an unoccupied chair and conjured up a large tankard of ale. "As for why I am here, well, that involves a certain young mister Potter." It may have been childish, he knew, but he took a certain level of pride and amusement at the reactions the humans before him exhibited. Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley instantly perked up and looked at him with wide hopeful eyes while everyone else looked at him with dumbfounded and suspicious expressions. The news of Harry's disappearance had yet to be made public so the only ones that knew were the Death Eaters or members of the Order, but judging by Snape's confusion, the man's pleasant demeanor and certainly the fact that this man didn't seem the type to bow down to anyone, the odds that he was one of Voldemort's followers was remote.

"And what about Harry?" Remus asked, half afraid of the answer.

"I was asked to inform you that he is alive and well, in fact, my oldest brother, Aldur, has taken him under his wing." He replied in an offhand manner, much to the shock of all present.

"WHAT?" Tonks shouted loudly. "Where is he? We were told that he was…" She cut herself off, not because she felt that it was privileged information but rather because now that it appeared that Harry was alright she realized how ridiculous the idea of him being sent to another world was.

"I assure you that Mr. Snape's report was quite accurate." Belar responded before he kicked his feet up onto the table and took a long drink from his tankard.

"But, but then how…" Remus stammered, not even bothering to ask how the man apparently knew what they were all thinking or what they would ask.

"My brothers and I have the ability to move from one world to another with a great amount of ease."

"Then you can bring him back?" Molly asked while everyone else looked on hopefully. Those hopes, however, were quickly dashed.

"That, I cannot do. There are a great many things he must learn and accomplish before he can return. Things he cannot learn here. He has learned a lot already but he has a long way to go."

"THEN TAKE ME TO HIM!" Remus shouted in agitation. The Weasleys, Tonks and a few others were quick to demand the same.

"That is not possible at this point. There will be a time when select individuals may accompany him there, but that time has yet to come." Surprisingly, no one felt like arguing this point further. Even Remus and Molly recognized that they would not be able to sway this man in any way so they fell into silence but there was one that certainly wouldn't give up so easily. Due to his pleasant demeanor thus far, many were surprised and confused when Belar shot an extremely annoyed glare at Dumbledore.

"One's mind belongs to them and to them alone, Boy." Belar snarled in a bear like manner. "While it may be necessary to seek another's to establish contact, to seek what is theirs alone is a serious breach of protocol against one who is not your enemy." Everyone looked on in confusion as this strange young man called a one hundred and fifty plus year old man 'boy' not to mention the fact that he just scolded one of the greatest wizards of all time. Snape, however, figured out what had happened and lightly smirked in amusement at the thought that even Dumbledore could be bested.

Dumbledore looked on in open shock at not only having being caught red handed but also the fact that he had learned nothing in process. What had astonished him the most, however, was that he could not even find the other man's mind. It was like he was not even there. The most powerful Occlumans he had ever encountered was without a doubt the Dark Lord Grindlewald, more powerful than even himself, but not even he could hide his mind so effectively. While Voldemort was more intelligent and more powerful than his predecessor, he didn't have the temperament or emotional control to become a true master of the art. The silence stretched for several long moments until Hermione spoke up with a rather odd question.

"How long has Harry been gone?" Everyone looked at her like she was insane but Dumbledore eyed her in annoyance since that was the very question he himself was thinking over. Seeing the looks she was attracting, she was quick to explain her seemingly 'intellectually retarded' inquiry. "What I mean is this. Harry disappeared only thirteen hours ago but you said that your brother had 'taken him under his wing' and that he has learned a lot already. After dueling with the Dark Lord for nearly an hour Harry would be in no condition to learn anything for some time. So, either you're lying, for your own purposes or at Harry's insistence so that we wouldn't worry, which I wouldn't doubt. Or, wherever he is staying has been placed under some kind of charm so that he, and whoever else may be there, could learn as much as possible in the shortest amount of time that they could manage." Despite his divinity, Belar had a hard time hiding his bewilderment at how such a young girl could draw such conclusions from a seemingly unimportant statement.

"This is Hermione, it's what she does." Ginny explained simply after seeing his expression as well as those of a number of Order members that had not previously met her.

"Well, you're partially correct but it has nothing to do with your cute little charms." Belar began much to the confusion of all those present. "Time advances differently in various parts of the universe, don't ask why because I never thought to look into the reasons. The universe does things her own way and doesn't always feel the need to explain." If they were confused before they were simply dumbfounded now. First he describes an extremely powerful and complicated piece of magic as 'a cute little charm' and now a very cryptic, if not bizarre, insight into the workings of the universe. "Harry, or Haldar as he is now known, was sent to his current location just after this world moved into an area where time progresses at a slower rate. So, as you thought, he will be gone for a great deal more time than you yourselves will experience. For example, and to answer your original question, he has now been training for nearly three years."

"Three years in half a day?" Hermione gasped in despair that her friend was in such a situation without the support of those that cared about him as well as a bit of jealousy that he had crammed in three years of learning over one night. At that point Belar decided to leave without answering anymore questions. As soon as he was gone Dumbledore asked Snape and a few others that were skilled in Legillimency what they had thought of the man. Though none of them had outright tried to enter his mind as Albus had, they had detected nothing but honesty in his words. Deciding to proceed with the notion that everything Belar had said was truthful many were greatly relieved that Harry would likely be back relatively soon if the man's information was completely accurate. If Harry could learn for three years in the space of thirteen hours it would be only a matter of weeks before he reached Albus age and surely he would be ready to return long before then.

MMM

It was midsummer before Belgarath and Polgara got back to the Vale and by that time they had actually begun to grow closer. In a strange sort of way losing Beldaran to Riva healed a lot of the old wounds that had kept them at odds with each other and though he never spoke of it, Belgarath was grateful just the same.

They spent several days giving the twins every detail of the wedding and although they noticed the obvious change in both Polgara's physical appearance and her attitude they chose not to make a big fuss about it which Belgarath was very thankful for since he was still uncomfortable with the looks she had drawn from many of the young nobleman that attended the wedding and later festivities. Beltira and Belkira were saddened that Harry had not returned with them but they were also happy that he was out seeing more of their world since they didn't know how long he would be there and he may not have the opportunity to do it later on. Polgara was immensely pleased that he had not returned as well but for much different reasons.

After they had gotten settled in once again, Belgarath decided that it was about time that Polgara got started on her education. She was a very intelligent young woman but she could only go so far with the news Beldin had been giving her on the outside world. She had to start learning things for herself and that was not something she was looking forward to.

"_Alright, where is the best place to start?"_

"_Same place I did, I would imagine." Belgarath responded as he scratched his chin. "Try not to be offended, Pol, but you're going to have to learn how to read."_

"_Can't you just tell me what I need to know?" Belgarath just shook his head. "Why not?"_

"_Because I don't know everything you will need to learn. Let's go sit down, Pol, and I'll try to explain it." He said and led her over to the part of his tower that he devoted to study. "First off, Pol, we're all different."_

"_What an amazing thing, how is it that I never noticed that before now?"_

"_I'm serious, Pol. This thing we call 'talent' shows up in different ways in each of us. Beldin can do things that I wouldn't even attempt and the others also have their own specialties. I can give you the basics but then you'll be on your own. Your talent will develop along lines that will be dictated by the way your mind works. Most people babble about 'sorcery' but most of what they say is pure nonsense. All it is, all it can be, is thought, and all of us think differently. That's what I meant when I said 'you're on your own'."_

"_Why do I need to read then? If I'm so 'unique' then what can your books tell me that will be of any use?"_

"_It's a shortcut Pol. No matter how long you live, you're not going to have time to rethink every thought that everyone who has ever had. That's why we read… to save time."_

"_How will I know which thoughts are right and which thoughts aren't?"_

"_You won't, at least not at first. You will get better at recognizing fallacies as you go along."_

"_But that will only be my opinion."_

"_That's kind of the way it works, yes."_

"_But what if I'm wrong?"_

"_That's the chance you have to take." Belgarath replied as he leaned back in his chair. "There are no absolutes, Pol. Life would be simpler if there were but it doesn't work that way."_

"_Ah, I've got you there, Old Man." Pol spoke up with a smug expression. She always did love a good argument. "There are things in life that are certain._

"_Oh? Name one."_

"_The sun is going to come up tomorrow."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because it always has."_

"_Does that mean it always will?" _

"_It will, won't it?" Polgara asked with a look of consternation on her face._

"_Probably, but we can't always be certain. Once you've decided that something is absolutely true you have closed your mind to other possibilities and a closed mind goes no where. Question everything, Pol, that's what education is all about."_

"_This is going to take longer than I thought."_

"_Probably so, yes. Shall we get started?" Polgara needs reasons why she has to do something and after she learned why she needed an education she learned at a surprising rate. The fact that she was also miles behind Harry in her education spurred he on as well. Almost as soon as she learned to read she began devouring his library and later Beldin's as well. She didn't work her way through them as fast as Harry did but Belgarath certainly wasn't going to tell her that. _

MMM

"So, this is Mal Yaska?" Harry asked as he looked down into the valley towards the high walls that surrounded the fairly large city. It was by no means large according to Earth standards but it was one of the largest he had seen on this world thus far and only the city of Riva surpassed its defenses. Apparently many other cities in both the west and in Mallorea take defense very seriously but he hadn't seen very many of the larger cities thus far. For the three months he and Beldin had been in Mallorea, they had mostly stayed away from larger populations unless they were looking in on troop movements, of which there was surprisingly none.

Mal Yaska was nestled in a Valley about four hundred leagues southeast of the land bridge with rolling hills to the west, east and south and a small mountain range not far off to the north. Unlike the small towns and villages they had visited previously, they had to be very careful here since it was the center of religious power on the continent. This was where Torak's disciple Urvon made his home and Harry was very anxious to meet him. They had come across very few Grolims thus far in their trip but just the very thought of them still brought out that same intense anger and hatred that he felt in the forests of Gar OG Nadrak. If he could get his hands on the leader of the Grolim church in Mallorea he would be very happy indeed.

As Harry looked down into the city he had to shake his head at the apparent single minded nature of people with his abilities. For some god awful reason they all seem to be more comfortable in towers. The one that dominated the view of Mal Yaska was obviously the home of Urvon and was far larger than any of the ones in the Vale, probably because it also served as a temple and had its own staff and servants. Beldin had to hold Harry back as he unconsciously took several steps towards the city.

"Where do you think you're going?" The hunchback asked with his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I'm just going to take a look, that's all." Harry responded while plastering the most innocent look he could conjure up on his face. Beldin didn't seem to believe him one bit but didn't hold him back again.

"Fine, but watch yourself. Urvon may be an egotistical and cowardly ass but he's got a sharp mind so it'll be hard to fool him with any disguise you use your talents for." Harry was a little bit surprised that the man actually complimented the man, in a crude sort of way, after doing nothing but ridiculing him to Harry over the last few years when the subject came up. It also answered a question that he had kept forgetting to ask. Since Urvon was well aware of Beldin's physical appearance, and was terribly frightened of him, he had wondered why he didn't just shift into another form to sneak up on him. But if Beldin was to be believed, the man would know the difference.

Giving the older man a sharp nod, he slowly shifted into the form of a crow, to lessen the 'noise' so he wouldn't alert anyone to his presence, and launched himself into the air with a few powerful beats of his wings. One thing Beldin had made sure he knew was that hawks were not always common in every given location. The odds of a single bird drawing unwanted attention were very remote but it was best to not take the chance. Crows seemed to be very plentiful in areas that an Angarak temple occupied so he was safe on that account. They almost seemed to be drawn to death.

Flying over the poorly constructed huts that offered insufficient protection for the large population of peasants, Harry approached the walls before perching himself on the battlements a few hundred feet from the nearest guard. Looking down into the city itself, he wasn't the least bit surprised to see that it was similar to every other city he had come across, both in the west and in Mallorea. Most people in the western kingdoms seem to think their enemies were nothing more than savages with a level of civilization that made them little better than animals themselves. In reality they were very much alike. The Malloreans anyway, he didn't have enough experience with the Nadraks and he had never even seen a Thull or Murgo, so he couldn't speak to that extent.

Below, he watched as women and servants moved around throughout the market place and the various shops, merchants selling their wares. Wagoneers moved out of the city and surrounding farms to transport their goods to nearby villages and towns. And peasants left their homes to work in the fields, harvesting the produce that they were slaves to so that a nobleman may get richer. A sharp scream pulled Harry's attention away from these mundane matters and drew it to the real difference between east and west.

A small contingent of men in black robes and polished steel masks moved about through the rickety huts outside the city gates and captured four women before marching back through the gates and towards their temple, which Harry assumed was in Urvon's tower. He was a bit surprised that they picked four women until he realized that the men worked the fields and preformed the more degrading tasks that kept the city running smoothly. They had at least _some_ value.

His anger returning full force, Harry prepared to launch himself off the wall and overtake the Grolims when commonsense pushed its way back into his mind. He had no chance whatsoever of helping those women. Even if he could eliminate the six Grolims he couldn't exactly expect the guards and soldiers patrolling the streets to just stand there and let it happen. That was without a doubt the hardest thing he had ever done. Watching those women being led away to their deaths and knowing that he could do nothing to stop it. He sat on that wall for two hours, trying to calm himself down but the loud gong sounding from the temple every hour, signifying a 'holy' sacrifice, threatened to dissolve what was left of his restraint.

After finally getting his emotions under control, he glided smoothly to one of the lower windows that was sitting open and perched himself on the windowsill. A quick look around with his sharp eyes told him all he needed to know so he ducked inside without drawing any attention. Taking one last quick look around the unoccupied sitting room satisfied Harry's paranoia so he cracked the door open slightly and was relieved to find no one outside on the steps that led from one level to another. Figuring that Urvon would be at the top, he swiftly exited the room and made his way up the stairs after quietly closing the door behind him. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your point of view, he didn't make it very far.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" Harry turned around so fast that he just knew his neck would be sore in the morning and his hand instinctively reached for the dagger that was perfectly placed on his left hip, just next to his sword. He stopped suddenly when the object of his attention gasped in surprise and he noticed it was a young servant girl that was holding a fair sized roll of cloth. She was about his age with long dark hair and wide brown eyes. Hearing the sound chain mail clinking echoing from up the stairs, Harry leaned out in front of the girl with his hand on the wall, effectively blocking her path. This was a routine he had gotten used on the Isle of the Winds. Arriving with the 'great' Belgarath and being his 'apprentice' afforded him a certain status and many of the young noblewomen took an interest in him.

"What's your name?" He asked softly with a warm smile.

"Kirara. Now answer my questions. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I am Haldar, my lady. And I am here to present the disciple Urvon with a gift." Harry responded with a slightly exaggerated bow causing the girl to smile slightly.

"What kind of gift did you bring for him?"

"I fully intend to stick this dagger in between his ribs." Harry chuckled as he placed his left hand over the dagger on his belt.

"You have a very peculiar sense of humor." She responded with a slight giggle, clearly thinking it was a joke, just as two fully armed guards passed them on the stairs. Harry eyed them discreetly before turning his full attention back to the woman in front of him but he could hear more people moving about along the stairs.

"Why don't we go someplace and talk?" Harry suggested with a slight grin.

"I don't know, is it safe?" Kirara responded with a grin of her own.

"A beautiful woman is always safe with me."

Almost two hours later, Harry reemerged and continued his trek back up the stairs and cringed slightly when an echoing gong carried throughout the entire structure. As he grew nearer to the top he began poking his head through various doors to find anything of consequence but found nothing until he came across a storeroom that he figured was only one level under the temple itself. Normally this would not draw much attention but the fact that a lone Grolim was digging around in the various crates and shelves made it of great interest to Harry.

With silence born from sneaking around Hogwarts late at night, he slipped up behind the unsuspecting priest and wrapped his right arm around the man's neck, using his left for additional leverage. Without thinking twice he dragged the man to the center of the room to prevent his wildly kicking legs from crashing into anything that would cause any loud commotion. With a few strong jerks, the man's neck snapped and Harry dropped him to the ground. Swiftly, he removed his black robe and threw it over his own head before pushing the dead priest into a concealed corner before raising his hood and slipping silently back out of the door.

With his Grolim robe the guards standing outside of the temple made no move to stop him as he passed but it took all the restraint he could muster to prevent himself from attacking every man in sight as his eyes took in the 'ritual' that was going on at the front of the room.

Just as he had witnessed in the forest in Gar OG Nadrak, two priests held a man in place as he was bent backwards over an alter while a third cut out his heart. Thankfully he had not witnessed the actual deed this time. At the moment one priest held the man's heart in his hands, raised towards the sky, as he chanted in that same harsh tongue, which Harry now knew was Old Angarak. After he had finished with his 'blessing' he dropped the heart into a tall brass brassier full of burning coals. Harry closed his eyes tight trying to suppress his anger as he bowed towards the alter with everyone else as the tell tale gong sounded once more. Once he was upright once more, he made his way to the stairs that led up to a balcony that circled around the entire room. If there was a way to get to Urvon's quarters from the temple it would be up there. It didn't take him long to find the right door since there were only three and his was sure to be the most ornate of the lot. He was a trifle put out that it led to more stairs, however. He was really getting tired of stairs.

He was a bit surprised when he reached the top and found that the room looked much like Belgarath's own tower. There was only one room with no walls to separate the different areas and it was absolutely cluttered with what appeared to be meaningless junk. The walls were covered with bookshelves that wrapped around the entire room and the various tables were cluttered with many models and instruments that he couldn't even begin to imagine the purpose they served. Underneath a small window facing the north rested a modest sized bed that looked rather uncomfortable and a richly decorated desk occupied the space facing the south. His eyes went wide when he opened a massive trunk that sat next to the desk and found it packed tightly with gold bars. The only thing the room was missing was Urvon himself.

Harry grunted in annoyance at the man's absence before taking a closer look around. He wasn't too interested in the little models and knick-knacks so he began thumbing through the books to see if there was anything that would be of any us to him. He found a few that seemed promising and placed them in the bag he had draped over his shoulder. Unfortunately most of them were written in Old Angarak so he couldn't make heads or tails of them and he wasn't about to just grab an arm load to take to Beldin to see if there any good. He found one and simply froze as he looked down at the pages in disgust when he realized that the pages and cover were made out of human skin and blood had been used for ink.

"How did you get in here? Who are you?" Before the questions were even finished Harry had spun around and in one swift movement drew one of his daggers and sent it sailing across the room where it embedded itself into a Grolim, just below his Adams apple. The man fell to the floor with a silent thud as his companion looked down on him in shock.

He was about Harry's height but carried a 'few' extra pounds. Unlike the other old 'sorcerers' he had come across, this man was clean shaven with shock of short, thinning white hair. His most distinguishing feature was the fact that he had large patches of chalk white skin covering his face and hands giving him a the look of someone that had contracted some disfiguring disease. Given the richly adorned robes the man was wearing as well as Beldin's description there was no doubt in his mind that this was Urvon and so far he was seriously disappointed.

"I am Haldar, and as for how I got in, well, I just picked a door and followed the steps." Harry responded cheekily.

"Guards." Urvon shouted as he began to gather his Will. He was, of course, suitably shocked when Harry brought the full might of his Will down upon him in an effort to smother his own. Although Urvon could not access his 'talents' for the time being, Harry didn't have enough experience or practice using his Will while he was engaged in such a task. Another possibility presented itself when Torak's disciple reached out with his mind in an attempt to glean some information out of him. Harry smirked inwardly and he lowered his mental defenses slightly, giving the man something to grab hold of. It did not take long for him to take the bait and Harry quickly thought back to the fight in the Department of Mysteries, specifically the moments his body was possessed by Voldemort. He gathered all his all his memories of the pain that possession inflicted upon him and sudden pushed it to the front of his mind where Urvon, predictably, grabbed it up like a greedy child.

Almost instantly, the older man dropped to the floor and held himself in to a tight ball as he screamed his vocal cords raw as wave after wave of excruciating pain hammered its way into every cell of his body. After thirty seconds of constant screaming, Harry had enough and began to withdraw his swords to end the man's life when four temple guardsmen charged into the room with swords drawn.

"_Shit!"_ Harry swore to himself. With a whispered word his first dagger flew back into his hand and as soon as it was in its sheath he got a running start before throwing himself out of the nearest window. Unfortunately, he found that shifting into the form of a bird is much harder while falling from a high tower than it is to do it just standing on the ground. Probably because the sudden splat you're in danger of experiencing if you don't pull it off on the first try. Thankfully, he was able to make the transformation with plenty room to spare.

As he flew over the city he mentally chuckled to himself since he could still hear Urvon screaming. The feeling coursing through his veins when Voldemort possessed him was by far the most painful experience of his life, even worse than the Cruciatus curse and he was happy that he got to share it with someone like Urvon. He was in the process of flying back to Beldin's position outside the city when, for some inexplicable reason he couldn't even identify, he turned around and went the other way, leaving the hunchback far behind.

MMM

"_Where the hell have you two been?" Beldin snapped as he stomped his way up the stairs to Belgarath's tower after he and Polgara returned to the Vale. His sudden appearance surprised Belgarath slightly since when Beldin goes to Mallorea he usually stays for a couple centuries. _

"_Be nice Uncle," Polgara replied calmly. "We had some things to take care of."_

"_You're back early, is there some sort of emergency."_

"_Stop trying to be clever, Belgarath. You don't have the gift for it. The Mallorean Angaraks are just milling around over there. Nothings going to happen until Torak comes out of seclusion at Ashaba." He suddenly grinned. "The fact that Zedar is there with him is making that piebald Urvon crazy."_

"_Oh?"_

"_Urvon's a born toady, and the fact that Zedar is closer to Torak than he is right now is more than he can bear. To make it worse, he can't go to Ashaba to protect his interests because he's afraid to come out of Mal Yaska."_

"_What's he so afraid of?" Polgara asked curiously._

"Me and Haldar. Apparently he still has nightmares of that hook I showed and from what I understand Haldar gave him quite a fright."

"What did Haldar do to him?"

"I'm not sure, really. One moment everything was quite and the next you could hear an unholy scream echoing around the countryside. Whatever it was, it was very painful and left a lasting impression."

"Where is he?"

"Still in Mallorea is my best guess."

"WHAT?" Belgarath shouted as he jumped to his feet causing the chair he was sitting in to fly back, crashing into the wall. "Why the hell did you leave him there on his own?"

"I didn't leave him there, Belgarath, the little whelp ran off on me after his confrontation with Urvon. He went into the temple, gave Urvon a scare and then left in a different direction. I didn't even know he was gone until some time later. He's been on his own for nearly two years now." Beldin grumbled irritably.

"Two years and you don't know where he is or what he's doing?"

"Oh, I know what he's doing alright. He's doing his damnedest to single handedly dismantle Torak's church in Mallorea." Seeing the confused expressions on his 'audience', Beldin continued with a smile. "We were traveling through Gar OG Nadrak when we came across a group of Grolims making a few sacrifices. Haldar pretty much lost his composure and had the three dead in the space of five seconds. Since then he's made a point to kill any Grolim we came across unless he didn't have the ability to pull it off. It's nice to see that he still has some commonsense. Anyway, I tried tracking him down for a while and came across a number of burnt out temples and stories of a 'sorcerer' killing priests and eating babies, you know, the usual."

"So, you just left him there?" Belgarath repeated after shaking off his surprise causing Beldin to roll his eyes.

"Yes, I did. As you well know, Haldar is almost impossible to find using our usual methods and Mallorea is to big a place to look for a single person with only your eyes. I just followed the dead Grolims for about a year until the Master visited me and told me, in no uncertain terms, to leave him be. He said that he will return to the Vale on his own soon enough."

"Soon enough? In our terms that could be anytime in the next century." Belgarath snapped irritably causing Beldin to simply shrug his shoulders.

"_What's for breakfast, Pol?" Beldin asked drawing a long, steady look. "You seem to be filling out a bit." He noted as he brazenly ran his eyes over her. "You might want to try to keep that under control. You're getting a bit hippy."_

"_Don't press your luck, Uncle." Polgara responded as her eyes narrowed dangerously._

"_I'd pay attention to her, Beldin." Belgarath advised. "She's started her education and she's a very apt pupil."_

"_I sort of thought she might be. What were you two up to. All I could get out of the twins was that you had gone to the Isle."_

"_There's an heir to the Rivan throne now." Belgarath told his brother happily. "His name is Daran, and he shows quite a bit of promise. The master's Orb was very pleased to meet him."_

"_Maybe I'll drift over there and meet him." Beldin mused. "I may not be related to him as you are but Beldaran and I were pretty close when she was growing up. What took you so long getting back?"_

"_I wanted to take a look at both the Darine and Mrin prophets. There's no question about their authenticity."_

"_Good, Torak's having a little bit of difficulty with his prophecy. He doesn't seem to like what it says. When he came out of one of his trances he read what Zedar's scribes had taken down and tried to tear down a couple of mountains, I guess. Apparently they offended him."_

"_Sounds promising. Anyway we can get our hands on a copy?"_

"_Not likely. Torak definitely doesn't want that document widely circulated. Urvon had a copy, but Torak reached out from Ashaba and set fire to it. Zedar's at Ashaba and we both know him well enough to be sure that he'll have an extra copy hidden somewhere. If Torak ever lets him leave he'll probably take it with him. It's my guess that it's the only copy that isn't under 'One-Eye's' direct control. Someday I'll catch up to him and take it off his carcass." He scowled at Belgarath. "Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?"_

"_I was told not to. I think you'd better restrain you homicidal impulses, as well, if you ever come across him. We're going to need him later on."_

"_I don't suppose you could be any more specific than that."_

"_That's all I was told." _

"_Well, I might be able to get my hands on a copy of the 'Mallorean Gospels'. That is, if I can figure out a way to get to Kell and back in one piece."_

"_What are the 'Mallorean Gospels?" Pol asked._

"_Another set of Prophecies." Beldin replied. "They'll be very obscure, though. The Dals wrote them, and they're absolutely neutral. Oh, incidentally, Belgarath, Ctuchik's moved."_

"_Yes, I've heard about that. He's at a place called Rak Cthol now."_

"_I flew over it on my way home. It isn't very inviting. It's built on top of a peak that just sticks up out of the middle of that desert southeast of here. I picked up a few rumors here and there. Evidently, this epidemic of prophecy is fairly wide spread. Some of Ctuchik's Grolims have come down with it to. He's got them all at Rak Cthol with scribes pretty much camped out on top of them. I doubt their prophecies will be anywhere near as precise as Torak's but it might be worth our while to see if we can get hold of a copy. I'll leave that up to you though. I think I'd better stay away from Ctuchik. I've brushed up against his mind a few times, and he could probably feel me coming from a hundred leagues off. We want information, not fist fights."_

"_I think maybe I'll visit Rak Cthol and drop in on Ctuchik. He's new to this part of the world and I think someone should welcome him. Or at least see what he looks like." Belgarath mused with only a hint of sarcasm._

"_That would be the neighborly thing to do." Beldin replied with an evil grin._

"_Are you going back to Mallorea?"_

"_Not for a while. I want to go look at your grandson first."_

"_Do you want to keep an eye on Polgara for me while I'm gone?"_

"_I don't need a keeper, Father."_

"_Yes, actually you do. You are at a dangerous stage of you education. You __**think**__ you know more than you really do. I don't want you to start experimenting without supervision."_

"_I'll watch her." Beldin agreed before turning to Polgara herself. "Have we forgotten about breakfast altogether, Pol. Just because you've decided to watch your weight doesn't mean the rest of us have to start fasting."_

As he began to come out of the mountains on to the vast desert plain that dominated the area in the form of a wolf he could quite easily make out the shape of what he supposed was Rak Cthol in the distance. He just gazed stupidly at it for several moments. All the information he had gotten on the city indicated that it stood at an incredible height put but he never expected this. The fact that he could see it from such a distance was mind boggling.

Shaking his head to clear it of such thought, he shifted back into his human form before shifting again into that of a vulture since they seemed to be very common in the area which would allow him to remain inconspicuous. Thankfully flying in this environment was failing easy since all he really had to do was ride the up drafts and let them carry him to the city. Belgarath was completely incompetent but flying was not his area of expertise. The sun was just beginning to set and the rays of light reflected off of the basalt peak causing it to look almost as if it were dipped in blood. Considering what was going on in the city above that was not entirely inappropriate really.

_For some time he just lazily circled the lone mountain as he let the hot air push him higher. When he finally reached the top he noticed that it was still under construction and, like with all Murgo architecture, it was considerably ugly which was probably a reflection of Ctuchik's mind. The actual work was being preformed by slaves, of course, since Murgos and Grolims felt that they were above such things. He watched patiently for several hours until the slaves were herded into their cells below the cities foundations._

_Needing a disguise, he slowly and very carefully changed back into his human form before hiding himself in a narrow embrasure and waited for one of the Murgo sentries that were patrolling the walls for some idiotic reason. Honestly, it's a drop of almost a mile to the desert floor, who is going to scale that wall._

_He chose the simplest way of dealing with the situation and waited until the guard had passed before bashing his head in with a rock. He quickly removed the man's black robe but decided against the chain mail shirt since it was rather uncomfortable and made noise. After throwing the robe over his head and raising the hood he shoved the Murgo into the embrasure and went looking for Ctuchik. _

_For the most part Belgarath spent his time moving around, listening to the conversations of those close to him and lightly probing the minds of the sentries that passed by him for any indication of where Ctuchik was located. he didn't want to use his Will to much to get the information since it seemed that just about everyone in Rak Cthol wore the same black robes the Grolims favored so if was rather difficult to tell the two groups apart and he certainly didn't want to go probing the mind of a Grolim that had enough brains to understand what was happening and raise the alarm. _

_Through his eavesdropping he discovered that Ctuchik was in the temple of Torak which he had suspected but in was nice to get a confirmation. The temple was surprisingly quite and empty at the moment as it appeared the Grolims were asleep, by this time it was nearly midnight. Ctuchik, however, was not asleep. Belgarath locked onto the other man's mind and used the light contact to lead him through the various corridors to the disciple's chambers._

_Coming across a large black door, he let himself in and quietly shut it behind him. Sensing that his target was above him, Belgarath made his way to the stairs, passing two levels without a moment's hesitation. As he neared the door on the top level he could feel the presence of the occupant on the other side of the door. He seemed to be reading, and he didn't seem to be particularly alert. Setting himself, Belgarath opened the door._

_An emaciated looking Grolim with a white bread was sitting at a table near one of the round windows bent over a scroll by the light of a single oil lamp. Whatever Belgarath expected the man to look like, this was not it. The man looked more like a walking corpse than the disciple of a god._

"_What?" He exclaimed, dropping the scroll as he leapt to his feet. "Who gave you permission to be in here?"_

"_It's late, Ctuchik. I didn't want to bother anyone so I let myself in."_

"_YOU." He screeched, his sunken eyes blazing._

"_Don't do anything foolish," Belgarath cautioned him. "This is just a social call. If I had anything else in mind you would already be dead." He plopped down into a large high backed chair and regarded his enemy with curiosity. "What in the world possessed you to set up shop in this hideous place?"_

"_It suits me." He replied, trying to get hold of himself as he bent down to pick up the scroll that had fallen to the floor. "You always manage to show up where you are least expected, don't you, Belgarath?"_

"_It's a gift. Are you doing anything right now? I can come back later if you're in the middle of something." _

"_I think I can spare you a few moments."_

"_Good." Belgarath went back and closed the door he had left open before sitting in the chair directly across from Ctuchik. "I think we should have a little chat, as long as we're living so close together. I thought we could establish a few ground rules, is all. I wouldn't want you to blunder into anything by mistake."_

"_I don't make mistakes, Belgarath."_

"_Oh, really? I can think of dozen or so you've made already. You didn't exactly cover yourself with glory at Cthol Mishrak as I recall."_

"_You know perfectly well that what happened at Cthol Mishrak had been decided long before you even got there. If Zedar had done what he was supposed to do you never would have gotten that far."_

"_Yes, sometimes Zedar is a little, undependable, but that is beside the point. I'm here to give you a bit of advice. Keep a tight leash on your Murgos. The time isn't right yet for anything major, and you and I both know it. A lot of things have to happen before we can get down to business. Keep the Murgos out of the western kingdoms, they're starting to annoy the Alorns."_

"_My, my, what a shame." Ctuchik sneered._

"_Don't try to be funny. You're not ready for a war, particularly with the Alorns. Iron-grip has got the Orb and you saw what he can do with it when we had that little get together at Cthol Mishrak. If you don't get your Murgos under control he might take it into his head to pay you a visit. If you irritate him to much he will turn this mountain of yours into a pile of gravel." _

"_He's not the one who's supposed to raise the Orb." Ctuchik objected._

"_My point exactly. Let's not push our luck here. We haven't received all of our instructions yet so we don't even know what we're supposed to do. If you push the Alorns too far Iron-grip is likely to lose his temper and do something rash. So let's not complicate things any more than they already are."_

"_Perhaps you are right." Ctuchik reluctantly agreed. "We've all got lots of time so there is no need to hurry."_

"_Good, I'm glad we see eye to eye on this matter." Belgarath began as he stood up and stretched. "Well, it has been absolutely wonderful talking with you, old boy, but I'm afraid that I really mush dash."_

MMM

It was late summer before Harry had made it out onto the plains of Algaria. He had spent just over six years in Mallorea and he had intended to stay a bit longer but Aldur had visited him and placed a task on him that he was not looking forward to. In fact he would rather spend several centuries on the eastern continent if it meant that it would be placed in someone else's hands but he new perfectly well why he was picked.

As he got further and further south he sighed in annoyance as his small Nadrak horse began to tire faster each day. He kept a look out for any Algar clans in the area in the hopes that he could buy one of their superb stallions but the plains were surprisingly empty which confused him to no end. Usually you couldn't go a day without seeing at least one clan standing watch over their herds of horses and cattle.

He had been in Algaria for maybe a week when he began to see what appeared to be a large black pinnacle rising out of the plain. The closer he got throughout the next day the larger it seemed to get. The last he heard, there were no permanent towns out on the plains, at least not of any considerable size. As he crested the last hill obstructing his view, he whistled to himself as he took in the fortifications this 'town' seemed to have. The walls surrounding it were a good two hundred feet high with battlements atop where a good archer could probably hit anything he could see. He also found the missing herds.

The countryside was literally filled with thousands cows and horses as the individual clans tried to keep them from wandering off. Wondering what the hell was going on, Harry nudged his horse forward and set off to the southeast where he saw the banner of Algar Fleetfoot flying amidst the roaming horsemen. Long before he reached the Algarian king several rather severe looking warriors broke off from the herds and charged directly at him. Realizing what was going on, Harry pulled his horse to an abrupt stop and made sure his hands stayed away from his weapons.

"Who are you and what is your business here?" The apparent leader of the group asked sharply with his saber held tightly in his right hand. They may have seemed a bit paranoid but their horses and cattle were their way of life and they would protect them at all costs. Murgos had made a habit of sneaking into the country to steal horses and more often than not they were chased down and killed.

"My name is Haldar, and I was hoping to speak with Algar." The leader seemed a bit angered that Harry referred to his king in such a 'casual' way but he calmed down and his eyes widened only a fraction when the man to his left whispered something into his ear.

"Very well, follow us." Harry was a little confused by this but wasn't going to argue the point with four armed men when there was no need. The Algar clansmen rode out across the plain towards the herds at a fast pace and seemed to take an almost childlike amusement to the fact that Harry's horse couldn't keep up causing him to grunt in annoyance. About thirty yards from the mass of livestock three of the horsemen stopped, bringing Harry to a halt, as one rode on. A few minutes later he returned with a man that he recognized as Algar at his side.

"It's about time you came through here." The soft spoken king began causing Harry to look at him in confusion. "Belgarath has had all of us looking out for you for some years now. Apparently your disappearance has annoyed him greatly."

"Well isn't that a shame?" Harry replied with a grin. "What's going on here?" He asked as he waved his arm out over the herds.

"I made a deal with the Duke of Vo Wacune a few years ago. Every summer we drive the herds through the pass in the mountains into Arendia and gather them at Muros. The first year was pretty stale but since then cattle buyers from all over the west have been coming. It makes it a lot easier than having to go find the different buyers ourselves. We pay a small fee to the Duke for use of the land and we get to sell our livestock."

"Profitable?"

"Very! The last few years we returned home with nothing but the horses we rode in on and this year is looking pretty good already. We've got reports saying that many of the buyers are already setting up camp for our arrival. Merchants from all over have been coming as well, setting up tents to sell their different wares."

"Ok, I can understand that but what do you need that monstrosity for? From what I understand you have no use for such a city." Harry asked as he looked at the tall black walls to the west of him."

"We built it for the benefit of the Murgos." Algar laughed. "They usually come down in small parties in the hopes of stealing a few horses but occasionally a larger group comes down looking for a fight. They can't seem to understand why someone would build something like that for no reason so they attack it instead of wondering around the countryside. It makes them easier to find."

"So it's a trap?"

"I guess you could say that. It also gave us something to do. Watching cows is boring, they don't do much and they usually don't wander too far. It's gotten to be a sort of competition, which clan can build the most, its good for moral. The walls get higher and thicker every year."

"If you say so." Harry conceded, shaking his head at the thought of building such a structure out of boredom.

"Where did you get that horse?" Algar asked as he looked at the small, tired animal critically.

"Stole it from a Nadrak. I was tired of flying. Dras didn't have any spare horses with him so I'm stuck with this."

"When did you see Dras?"

"About three weeks ago, I think." Harry nodded. "He was out near the Nadrak border putting the Bear Cult in its place. He didn't tell me that Belgarath was looking for me though, must have slipped his mind with a fight on his hands." The Bear Cult believed strongly in the reunification of the original Alorn Kingdom as well as subjugating the other western kingdoms and forcing them to follow Belar. Before the Gods left this world Belar told his people to continue and lead the fight against the Angaraks and the Bear Cult took this literally. They believed everyone had to follow Belar before they could defeat Torak. At most they were a minor annoyance but occasionally they had to be suppressed using more, violent, means.

"Anything of any importance happen in the last few years?"

"Nothing much really, Riva and Beldaran now have a son"

"They do, when did that happen?" Harry asked with great interest.

"About four years ago."

"It took them that long? By the way they were looking at each other since they first met I would have thought she would have given birth within the first year." Harry talked with Algar for a while more before moving on. Algar was kind enough to 'loan' him a much better horse under the condition that he paid for it the next time they met, for a substantial fee, of course. It took him a further two days to reach the northern border of the Vale and within a few hours he came across a fuming Beldin, who was apparently there waiting for him.

"It's about bloody time you got here. Where have you been?" Beldin growled as he intercepted Harry on his way to Belgarath's tower.

"Mallorea, where else would I have been?" He answered simply as he slipped out of his saddle to walk along side the ancient dwarf. "I'm surprised that you actually felt the need to ask, I never really took the effort to hide my movements. The attacks on the priests of Torak alone should have caught your attention." Harry continued with a slight smirk that seemed to intrigue the other man and his irritation quickly turned to curiosity.

"Speaking of your tastes for Grolim blood, do you know anything about that other fellow that seems to share your appetites?"

"What other fellow?" He asked in confusion.

"I don't know that much about him really. Apparently he's some nobleman from Melcena. Along the east coast of Mallorea many of the peasants have been calling him the 'Lightning Lord' for some reason and…" Whatever Beldin was going to say was cut off when Harry began laughing loudly. Seeing that Beldin was clearly becoming very annoyed, Harry decided that it would be best, for his over all health, if he were to explain.

"The Lightning Lord is a nickname that I was branded with several years ago because of this damn scar on my forehead, and while I am not a citizen of Melcena, you have the pleasure of addressing the new Baron of Anden." He finished in a fake pompous tone as he bowed low. "But that explanation will have to wait, I don't feel like telling this story more than once, its rather annoying really."

"Very well," Beldin grunted but it was obvious that the man wanted answers now not later. "Now, why did you choose now of all times to return? At the rate you were going I would have expected you to kill off every Grolim in Mallorea before you came back. "

"You weren't told?" Harry asked with genuine surprise. "Well, I was at Ashaba when.."

"ASHABA? ARE YOU INSANE OR JUST PLAIN STUPID? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN…"

"Why don't we save that one for later as well. Anyway, I was at Ashaba about, oh, two years ago, I think, when Aldur paid me a little visit and informed me that I had to return to the Vale soon to help Polgara train her mind. Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled with the idea but at about the same time Torak stopped acting like a madman and began to come around so I high tailed it out of there as fast as I could. I wandered around for a while longer until I was 'gently' reminded of my obligations, so here I am."

"He wants YOU to teach Polgara?" Beldin asked in bewilderment and for the first time he questioned the wisdom of his master. While the girl had taken her studies a great deal more seriously since Beldaran's wedding, the odds of the two making any progress before they attempted to kill each other would be very slim indeed.

"I believe that is exactly why he wants me to do it." Harry stated as if knowing exactly what the other man was thinking. "Polgara is extremely stubborn and hard headed. She likes to think that she is skilled enough to tackle any problem and the only way to correct her in her misconception is to use methods that you, Belgarath and certainly the twins would never subject her to. I, however, am not burdened by such restraints. And so the first thing I intend to do is break her." Harry concluded in an offhand manner as if he were discussing the training of horses not a young woman. Beldin, however, found this explanation absolutely hilarious. As Harry said, Polgara was extremely stubborn, the idea of any man 'breaking' her as he said was nearly outside the realm of reality. Harry let him have his laugh and merely guaranteed that he could do precisely that in less than ten minutes. That was certainly a bet Beldin was willing to take but the look in Harry's eyes at the moment added a little bit of doubt.

"I hope you know that I have no intention of letting you out of my sight again!" Belgarath hissed through clenched teeth as he stared at Harry with narrowed eyes. Polgara just glared at him in undisguised animosity. She didn't look much different than the last time he saw her. She was wearing a plain blue dress and the white lock of hair that had been hidden for years under dirt and grime seemed to glow slightly as her silvery grey eyes flashed slightly. No, she was clearly not happy that he had returned.

"Sorry, old boy, but I'll be leaving again soon, so unless you plan on tagging along, I'm afraid you're just going to have to learn to live with disappointments." Harry said with a cheeky grin.

"And where…"

"Are you going now?" Harry turned quickly to see the twins entering the room and enthusiastically gave both old men a strong hug.

"I fully intend to drop in on Beldaran and Riva to see their boy. On the way there I think I'll find my way to Muros and look in on that big cattle fair of theirs. What little information Algar told me peaked my interest and it seems like a good enough way to get a feel for the different people here in the west without having to travel through every kingdom."

"Enough chit-chat, what the hell have you been doing and how did you get control of Anden?" Beldin snapped irritably. Belgarath and the twins looked at Harry in surprise while Polgara looked confused. Apparently her studies didn't include Mallorean geography.

"Where is Anden?"

"Its one of the four Melcene Islands of the east coast of Mallorea, one of the most prosperous as well. It's about the size of the Isle of the Winds but it's more developed and has a higher population." Belgarath explained as if he were giving a lecture in some university.

"That's pretty much right. Anyway, I took a boat to Melcene, the capital city, and I instantly feel in love with the place. The people were nice enough but the architecture was truly superb. They actually pay people to go out in small boats to collect all the trash that floats around to make sure their beaches and docks remained clean. It was as close to a perfect place that I have ever seen."

"The relevant stuff, Haldar!" Belgarath prompted. He had no interest in sitting around while Harry went into every detail about a city he had been to many times.

"I was getting to that. After I had been there for a few months a number of Grolims arrived to 'remind the citizens of their place'. Apparently the temple there on the island had fallen out of use long ago but Urvon was interested in reacquiring his power there. A number of the nobles were against this of course, for obvious reasons. Melcena basically controls the economy in Mallorea and they can't exactly do their job properly when some of their best and brightest are getting dragged off to the alter. To put it bluntly, the Grolims were bad for business.

"One of the most out spoken of them was a man named Malikae, the former Baron of Anden. The Grolims decided to use him as an example and dragged him, his wife and his sixteen year old son into the city square and proceeded to bend them over the alter. I was on one of the outer islands while much of this was going on but arrived in time to save the Baroness, but her husband and son were already dead. The Grolims were in a great deal of pain when I finally let them die. Anyway, I assured the townspeople that I would do all in my power to make sure it never happened again, so I left the island immediately."

"Where did you go?" Harry was a bit surprised that there was nothing but curiosity in Polgara's voice but he didn't let it show.

"I paid Urvon another visit. I tried threats first, which rewarded me with nothing but amusement as he fidgeted nervously so I decided on a trade. In exchange for keeping his Grolims out of Melcena I would agree to stay out of Mal Yaska."

"He actually went for that?" Beldin exclaimed as he looked at Harry incredulously.

"Yep. He originally wanted me to agree to stay away from him all together but a single sharp look was enough pressure he needed to agree with my terms. He obviously didn't want to be just another Grolim to be killed with my sword. From what I understand he hasn't even left his tower since. Apparently he believes I'm camped outside the city somewhere, just waiting for him to leave the protection of its walls. That's fine, I guess, it limits his reach quite a bit."

"Why didn't you just kill him?" Beldin grunted.

"Oh, before I got there I fully intended to do just that and after I left I cursed myself for not doing it. But while I was there the thought never entered my mind. Like someone or something made sure I wouldn't act on it." Harry sat thinking about that in silence for several minutes and concluded that it was a perfectly reasonable explanation. According to Belgarath the two opposing 'entities' that represent the different possible futures are perfectly capable of working through others to set up events that could be thousands of years into the future but the idea of some higher form of intelligence didn't make him feel any more comfortable. He didn't like anyone or anything being able to enter his mind unchecked and this just added to that list.

"Where was I?" He continued after shaking his head briefly. "I finally got around to going back to Melcena a year later and everyone seemed very enthusiastic about not having to worry about the Grolims. Malikae's younger brother found me in a waterside tavern a few days later and informed me that he had signed everything he inherited over to me. Including the family title and their hereditary seat on the Melcena Consortium.

"Wait, wait, wait. He just signed all this over to you, why?" Belgarath exclaimed in shock.

"Because he didn't want it. He had long since separated himself from his family and made his own way. He had no need or desire for any of it. He was a simple and modest man and was never comfortable around all the pomp of the highborn aristocracy. I had saved his sister-in-law, killed those responsible for his brother's death and made sure the Grolims stayed away, so he figured I was as good a person as any to give it all to. Any questions so far?"

"What is the Melcena Consortium?" Polgara asked after a few moments of silence. Harry could tell it was killing her that she seemed to be the only person that didn't know these things but he wasn't going to make an issue of it.

"They basically control the Mallorean economy with an iron fist. They set the prices for various metals and gems that are mined throughout the continent as well as the textiles, livestock and produce raised in Mallorea. They also have a small bit of legislative power but for the most part they stick with economics and regulating the shipping and trade routes. For the most part I have stayed out of it so far. I'm still trying to learn all I can about the different procedures so I've hired a few people that know what their doing to cast votes and such in my place until I know what I'm doing."

"So, you will be able to…"

"NO, I can't." He cut Beldin off, knowing full well what the man was thinking. "I didn't want that position but I was drunk when I was stupid enough to except the estate. While I am there, I am duty bound to do what I think is in the best interest of Mallorea's financial future. Not even Aldur would be able to change my mind on this. I must keep my priorities in these matters separate as much as possible. Of course, though I won't try to sabotage the economy, I have no restraints keeping me from using what I learn there to help you here."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Belgarath, you're a smart man, can't you figure it out?"

"Troop movements!" Polgara suddenly exclaimed.

"Precisely! For an army of any great size to move they are going to need a great deal of supplies and accurate locations to ship them. All this information WILL come to the consortium's attention long before the caravans reach their destinations."

"Have there been any movements yet?"

"Not really, no. Since Torak 'woke up' two years ago he's ordered the army to make preparations to move three times and each time the order was canceled within a week. It's very curious really. He seems to be out there floundering, like he doesn't know what he's doing or is constantly second guessing himself." Harry explained thoughtfully.

"Now that we got that out of the way, why don't you tell us what you were doing at Ashaba?"

"I was curious." Harry shrugged quickly before Belgarath could explode and exclaim his shock for all the world to hear. Polgara just stood off to the side looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. She obviously thought he was insane. "I wanted to get a good look at Torak and since he was a little unhinged at the time I thought I wouldn't get a better opportunity. I made sure I stayed perfectly hidden at all times but it was pretty much a wasted trip."

"How's that?"

"I couldn't get close enough to get a good look at Torak and the only things he said while in his trances were in Old Angarak and I never bothered to learn it since only the Grolims seem to use it anymore. I did get a good look at Zedar though. At first I thought he was you, Belgarath, before I saw his eyes. They looked haunted really, like a man that hated the past but longed for it nonetheless. I figure death would be greatly welcomed by that man."

"Well, with luck I'll be able to oblige him very soon." Beldin commented with a nasty grin.

"I had been there for nearly a week, and nothing to show for it, when Aldur visited me a gave me a very specific task to perform." Harry cringed slightly drawing curious looks from Belgarath and the twins while Polgara was able to hide her curiosity.

"And what did he want you to do?" Belgarath was a bit confused by the boy's reaction since Aldur would hardly have him do something of a distasteful nature and he would happily kill any man who said otherwise.

"You're looking at Polgara's new instructor." Beldin choked out through barks of laughter. As expected, Belgarath and the twins looked deeply shocked and Polgara looked positively enraged. The idea that Harry would be instructing _her_ seemed to offend her view of the world. In her mind he was hardly someone to be afforded attention much less holding a position of power over her. She had been studying almost nonstop for the last six years, she had read all of her father's and Beldin's libraries, what could he possibly have to teach her.

"Well, its getting late, I'm going to turn in. Polgara, I suggest you get a _very_ good night's sleep because tomorrow is going to be a long day, for you anyway." He informed the young woman with a wide grin before making his way down the stairs.

TBC


	6. A Hard Lesson Learned

TO END ALL WARS

By

Padfootjr24

Chapter Six: A Hard Lesson Learned

Harry yawned and stretched his arms over his head as he walked the distance between the twins' towers and Belgarath's early the next morning. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the confrontation that he knew was coming. He had no doubt that Polgara would try to fight him every step of the way and although he didn't like her one bit, the extremes he would be forced to go through to get through to her made him sick just thinking about it. As he told Beldin the day before, Polgara was extremely stubborn, and as such it would take a very powerful message to force her to take him seriously. Thankfully, he had been able to convince the twins to remain behind today. He preferred that the two kindly old men weren't there to see what he was going to do to the girl they had helped raise

_"Open up."_ Harry growled as he came to the base of the tower causing the large stone that served as the door to roll out of the way. He stomped his way up the stairs to see that Polgara was already up and moving about while Belgarath and Beldin sat talking quietly. Belgarath did not look happy.

"Haldar, why don't you join us?" Beldin spoke up, dipping a tankard into a barrel of ale and offering it to him.

"I'd just assume get started, if it's all the same to you."

"And why do I need _your _help?" Polgara nearly spat. Belgarath slammed down his tankard and went to lean against the wall on the other side of the room.

"Aldur warned us that your lessons could get a bit, extreme, and informed us that we were not to interfere under any circumstances. He rarely does something like that so I'm sure you can understand that Belgarath is just a little bit nervous." Beldin explained when Harry looked at him curiously. He nodded in understanding before turning his full attention to Polgara to answer her question.

"**I** was asked to help you because your mind, as it is, is woefully inadequate and in this field I am more skilled than either your father or Beldin. Thus far you have used your mind as nothing more than a repository for storing information, and while that may be enough for the vast majority of the people in this world, for us, it is not. The mind is capable of so much more than that."

"Like what?" Polgara glared at him with her arms crossed across her chest. As an answer, Harry sat down and simply raised his right hand to catch a book that he had summoned from across the room.

"Now, why don't you try to call this book to you?" Harry instructed as he lightly began to suppress her _will_, much as he did with Urvon. The girl gave him a patronizing scowl before whispering a word and flicking her wrist. Nothing happened.

"Stop that!" Harry snapped, seeing her wave her hand. "Hand movements and other gestures are completely unnecessary. While theatrics have their place, such actions only serve to draw attention to you. In the wrong environment, attention equals death. Now, tell me, why could you not summon the book?"

"You were blocking me?" She growled.

"So, should you let that stop you?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "Now, Belgarath, Beldin, will the two of you work together to block my _will, _just to make sure there are no mistakes?" When he felt the two powerful old men focus on him he looked back at Polgara and with a thought, and a great deal of concentration, he began to levitate her off of the floor. Polgara gasped loudly and she swung her arms wildly about, trying to grab hold of something so he gently put her back down where she looked at him with wide eyes.

"As you can see, the _Will and the Word_ is only one way of doing things. There is an entire branch of so called, _magic,_ that is powered and focused entirely by the mind. What I just showed you was telekinesis, using your mind to move an object. There is also telepathy, mind to mind communication. We also must work to protect what knowledge you have already acquired." This seemed to be too much for Polgara whose anger was growing with each word. At this point Belgarath was looking between Harry and his daughter anxiously, he knew how skilled Harry was in the mind arts and he wasn't looking forward to seeing how this played out. Beldin on the other hand was watching Harry expectantly.

"I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I don't need help from the likes of you when I have been handling my own education for many years now." The screeching was really starting to get on Harry's nerves and he threw away any hopes of Polgara acting like an adult about this. Pushing his mind out to make contact with her's, he brought up the memory of Voldemort's _Cruciatus _curse and gave her a quick dose. She felt it for only about ten seconds but it was enough to force her to scream out in pain and left her body trembling slightly as Belgarath rushed to catch her before she fell but he was shaken off. She wasn't going to show weakness in front of her father or Harry.

"As you can see, that attack was much more effective than the clumsy attempt you used on me when I first arrived in the Vale. If I wished, I could hold you under until the stress the pain caused snapped your mind and left you a raving lunatic for the rest of your days, and there would be nothing that you could do to stop me. Most people go their whole lives without experiencing the true nature of pain and so they have no understanding of the supreme effort that is required to block the pain out. At the moment you are in the same place as everyone else so you are still vulnerable if you are ever captured. How long could you go, how much pain could you withstand before you broke and told the enemy everything they wanted to know?

"That is enough talk of such things, now, we will proceed with our next demonstration, shall we." Harry explained without emotion causing her eyes to widen even further and her body to tense. This time Harry entered her mind and searched for a very specific target. This target was, of course, her mental connection to Beldaran. They have had the connection all their lives and it was a great source of comfort for both of them. They could feel each others emotions or their physical wellbeing over any distance but due to Polgara's 'talent' she felt it a great deal more than her sister did. Finding what he was looking for, he placed a temporary block over the connection to stop all forms of communication. The block would dissolve in just under thirty seconds but it would seem like a lifetime for Polgara, who had relied heavily on her sister's affection all of her life. He made sure to make the block only one way, he had no desire to put Beldaran through such an experience when it wasn't necessary.

The affect was instantaneous. Her face contorted in horror, and then in pain as tears flooded her eyes and raced unchecked down her cheeks. Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor as she screamed, cried, cursed the gods and all who worshipped them. Harry hardly spared her a glance as he sat back down at the small dinning table and took a long drink out of the tankard Beldin had offered him when he first arrived just minutes before. Belgarath tried to console the girl but he wasn't doing a very good job and Beldin was looking back and forth between Harry and Polgara in shock as he tried to figure out what he had done to her.

"Father," She sobbed. "Father we have to leave immediately. She may still be alive."

"Who? What happened and where must we go?" Belgarath asked franticly with a concerned and confused air about him.

"Beldaran, she may still…" She suddenly stopped in mid sentence and she snapped her head around to look at Harry in terror through red, puffy eyes.

"I don't think that you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation. I could keep these attacks going all day, without using the same technique more than once. With a mere thought I reduced you to a hysterical girl with no means or desire to defend yourself. If I had been a Grolim you would be long dead by now. The fact of the matter is that your mind IS undefended despite any skills you may have acquired in the last few years and we must correct this oversight as soon as possible. Any fool with just a handful of talent could enter your mind and do exactly as I just did. They can look through your every memory. Everything from your most embarrassing moment to any critical plans you may have been informed of. We must prevent this before they get that chance. You will need to learn how to build shields around your mind to ensure no one can enter without your knowledge.

"Anyone with eyes and ears knows that you hate me, and I'm not too fond of you either, but I gave my word that I would teach you so that is precisely what I am going to do. The bottom line is that this is a VERY serious matter and it must be seen to immediately. This has nothing to do with your pride and it certainly has nothing to do with me being in a position of power over you. If it were merely that, I would have stayed in Mallorea and let you fend for yourself, as I had to, but its not. It's about saving lives later on. You can scream all you want, make sarcastic comments, even resort to holding your breath or remaining silent like a petulant child, but you WILL follow my instructions to the letter and devote your full attention to everything I teach you. Do you understand?" Polgara just nodded numbly. She looked like she could burst out into tears again at any moment so it was no surprise that she didn't have a biting reply on hand.

"Good. Now, after we cover those areas and become relatively comfortable with them, you will learn to reach out and attack in a more 'effective' way. The attacks you have used in the past are both sloppy and ineffective against even the most inexperienced of your potential enemies. We must get you to a level where you can enter a man's mind, retrieve any relevant information and get out again without being detected."

"Even yours?" Beldin asked curiously. If Harry was going to teach Polgara to find even his mind than he figured he may sit in on their lessons as well.

"Not a chance. My mind is my own and I will allow no one access to it unless I choose."

"So you're saying that Pol doesn't have a chance at entering your mind? That's quite a boast considering how skilled she has already become."

"It's not a boast, it's simply a question of determination."

"Now what does that mean?" Beldin growled. If there was one thing the dwarf hated it was people saying things that made little sense as they waited for you to ask them to continue. This actually made him a bit of a hypocrite since he adored doing the exact same thing to others.

"It's quite simple really. The most important thing in her life is Beldaran. After her, it's the people in the Vale, then the Vale itself and so on. Yes, I read your mind." Harry answered Polgara's unasked question. "Breaking into my mind wouldn't even occur to her if someone asked her to tell them the ten things she desires most. It just isn't a priority of hers. However, I'm different.

"Shortly before I was brought here, that wizard, Voldemort, possessed my body. I watched, helpless, as he tried to get one of my mentors to kill me. It was the most painful experience of my life. Since then it has been my number one priority to make sure no one can enter my mind. Now, how could she possibly get through my defenses if I want to keep her out more than she wants to get in? Now I'll admit that skill and experience play a big part in every conflict but in the end it comes down to determination, who wants it more. Your determination is what keeps you going long after the last of your energy is spent and exhaustion overtakes you."

"Yeah, and what if both parties are equally skilled and equally determined?" Belgarath asked with a slight smirk but it was Beldin who answered.

"Well if you ascribe to Haldar's way of thinking, I would suspect that you would get one of your stereotypical paradox scenarios. 'What happens when an irresistible force collides with an immovable object'? The conflict is decided by chance. Power, skill and knowledge no longer have any meaning, neither party can win without the aid of an outside factor." Harry nodded his head with a large grin at Beldin's correct interpertation of his theory. All of a sudden Polgara seemed to come to several ugly truths and glared at Harry with narrowed eyes before storming out of the tower with Belgarath hot on her heals.

"Well, it seemed you only served to anger her further. Her hatred for you is going to make your job very difficult. And was all that really necessary?"

"Are you really that bad at reading people, Beldin? That was not hatred in her eyes, that was fear. Perhaps not of me but fear nonetheless. Until now Polgara has thought she was learning everything she could possibly need later on but she's realizing how far she truly has to go. She knew nothing of the mind arts and she was just treated to the terrible reality of how powerful a weapon the mind can truly be as well as the fact of how completely vulnerable to it she is. She doesn't like someone having any power over her and the idea that someone can so easily enter her mind with a mere thought frightens her. And yes, that was very necessary. Despite her hatred for me she will now take these lessons seriously and work to apply them as soon as possible."

"What exactly did you do to her?"

"Why did you do that?" Belgarath demanded as he came back in. Obviously he wasn't able to keep up with Polgara. Harry motioned him to sit down before he explained.

"The first thing I did was to give her a small dose of the _Cruciatus_ curse, the pain curse I told you about. The second time was obviously aimed at an emotional reaction. For that I chose to block her connection to Beldaran for a bit."

"YOU WHAT?" Beldin shouted in anger while Belgarath looked at him in horror.

"DON'T, raise your voice to me," Harry stated in a cold voice. "By rights, it should have been one of you that was to give her these lessons, but you, Belgarath, despite your slightly better better relationship with her, didn't have the nerve to pull her away from her books only to tell her that she now must rely on you for more training. You were afraid of how she would react. Beldin, she would have at least listened to you, perhaps even follow your instructions but you have never been firm enough with her to _force _her, and so you left her to study what she wanted, when she wanted. It is a direct result of your almost hands off approach to her education that I am here at this very moment, cleaning up the mess that you refused to acknowledge. That is your failure." Beldin and Belgarath looked almost shocked at being chastised in such a way by a man four thousand years their junior and couldn't seem to find an appropriate response, probably because everything he had said was true. Harry eyed the two old men for several moments before taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"Now, it's like I told Beldin yesterday. To get through to her I must use methods neither of you would ever dream of subjecting her to. To get the best results in such matters you have to know where to apply the pressure, and it's different for everyone. In Polgara's case that pressure point happens to be Beldaran. One of the things she is going to have to learn is how to keep her emotions tightly under control, you saw what happened just now when she thought Beldaran was dead. She fell apart, she was completely hysterical because the bond seemed to disappear for thirty seconds. However, in her mind there was a great deal more turmoil than you usually see when someone loses a close sibling and that was a direct result of their bond. Certainly a down side to what would normally be a perfectly wonderful thing. What happens when Beldaran really does pass on and that connection is severed for good? If she doesn't take these lessons seriously and practice the arts regularly she runs the risk of losing herself to her grief later on and she might not come out of it."

"Where did you learn all of this? I have quite a few books on the workings of the mind but none of them go into any detail about bonds."

"I stole a few books from Urvon the first time I was there. One of them went into telepathy in great detail and it also lightly covered various bonds. Aldur taught me a great deal of it as well but most of it I picked up when I was in Kell last year."

"Excuse me? I must have heard wrong, I thought you just said that you were in Kell." Beldin asked stupidly after an extended silence.

"No, you heard right. I was wandering around in southern Mallorea when I just stumbled across the place. Quite peaceful actually."

"How did you get there in one piece?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The Dals have all sorts of protections surrounding that place. The Grolims have tried to get control of the area for years but have had no luck at all. Apparently people who come to close are struck blind." The Dals were one of the tribes that were labeled as the 'Godless Ones' when the gods chose those that they would protect. When these various tribes were overlooked they each handled it in different ways. The Morindim in the west and the Karands in Mallorea turned to demon worshiping while the Ulgos set out to search for UL in the hopes that he would consent to be their god. In the Melcene Islands they concentrated on great works of architecture and breeding horses. The Dals, however, turned almost totally to the study of anything and everything a human being could imagine while giving the world the impression that they were just simple people with no great understanding of the world around them. It was a clever deception, one that most of the world had fallen for quite effectively, with the exception of those that had been around long enough to know better. Unfortunately when Torak use the Orb to 'Crack the World' the Dals were separated. Some in the east and some in the west. When the Murgos settled into the southern half of the western continent the Dals occupying the lands were rounded up and enslaved, an action they made no attempt to fight.

"Oh, that. As you probably know, the Dals are extremely pacifistic and will not tolerate bloodshed anywhere near Kell. Even the wolves and bears that occupy the forests leave the lands to do their hunting elsewhere. If you have no intention or desire to do harm to any life in the area you are perfectly safe. They're actually very nice people, if you overlook their annoying love for speaking in riddles."

"Well, it may be easier to get a copy of the Mallorean Gospels than we thought." Beldin exclaimed happily as he rubbed his hands together.

"The what?"

"They're prophecies Haldar. Prophecies written by the Dals' mystics."

"HA, you're barking up the wrong tree there." Harry scoffed drawing curious glances from the two old men. "It's an expression. It basically means that that is a dead end. You won't get anything from the Dals until they're ready to give it. I'm not sure what it is but they believe that they have some kind of important task ahead of them, one that is the basis of all their study and it has something to do with this whole 'Child of Light' and 'Child of Dark' thing."

"Well, what did you learn from them?"

"Mostly it was just information on various bonds and such, I have a book on it that you can look at later. They were usually very tight lipped when I tried to get any more information out of them but they did tell me that it was imperative that both Polgara and I learn and master this material. It was very clear that they knew _something_ about my bond with Voldemort which made me a bit uncomfortable as you can understand. If Polgara's bond with Beldaran is suddenly broken her grief could literally drive her insane if she doesn't train to protect her mind. I'm not sure what would happen if mine with Voldemort is broken but since my visit to Kell the thought of it makes me nervous."

"It makes sense really," Beldin began as he leaned back in his chair. "You've had that bond almost all your life, you may not have always been aware of it but its been there just the same. I'm sure it was strengthened when he used your blood to create a new body. If he dies it will effectively kill a part of you. It's possible that you could run the same risk as Polgara if your bond was suddenly broken."

"Now there's a thought I didn't need." Harry muttered quietly to himself. "So anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Nothing much, really. I did have the chance to go to Braca a few years back."

"Where is Braca and why should I give a damn that you were there?"

"Braca is in Drasnia, on the banks of the Mrin River. It's where the so called 'Mrin Prophet' lives. It took me all of three seconds to determine that he was authentic."

"Really, and how did you come to that conclusion?"

"Because he talked about the 'Child of Light'."

"Come on, Belgarath. Just because someone is using that term does not mean they have any information that we can work with. It is perfectly within the realm of possibility that he just heard it somewhere and used it in his ravings to gather attention." Harry scoffed. He was not a big fan of divination for obvious reasons.

"Under normal circumstances I would possibly agree, but this man has been incapable of speech all his life until he started speaking these riddles. For the most part he is a complete lunatic, the townspeople had to resort to chaining him to a post to keep him under control." Harry thought about this for several minutes before nodding grudgingly.

"Alright, what did he say?"

"Quite a bit actually. We have a team of scribes taking down everything he says but what stands out the most is what he said when I first arrived. At first he was just moaning and grunting but then he seemed to become very alert. He looked directly at me and said in a loud voice. Hmm, wait, how did it go? Oh yes…

_"Behold, the Child of Light shall be accompanied on his quest by the Bear and the Guide and by the Man with Two Lives. Thou, too, Ancient and Beloved, shall be at his side. And the Horse Lord shall also go with ye. And the Blind Man and the Queen of the World. Others also will go with ye; the Knight Protector and the Archer as well as the Mother of the Race that Died. The Trio From the Seer's Sight shall be led to thee by the Strength of the Gods, as they hunt the Cheater of Death."_

"Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know for sure. Whoever the Child of Light is at the time will obviously have some kind of quest he must go on and he will be accompanied by several others. I will apparently be one of them, as he directly called me the 'Ancient and Beloved'. The 'Knight Protector' and the 'Archer' are probably Arends. A Mimbrate and an Asturian respectively."

"That should certainly make your little trip entertaining to say the least. I haven't had cause to get to know any Arends so far but from what I hear the civil war between the three dutchies has turned hatred into a religion." Harry replied in amusement.

"Yes, well, I'm sure we'll be able to keep them under control."

"We? There is no _we _in this matter Belgarath. You are the one named in that bit of rubbish, not me. I see nothing there that could indicate me. Thus, I am spared from babysitting a couple of buffoons as they attempt to kill each other whenever your back is turned. Now, why don't you continue?"

"Very well," The old man growled quietly to himself as he glared at Harry. Beldin looked on with laughter shining in his eyes. Harry may find it hard to win many arguments with him but he could still run circles around Belgarath on occasion. "The 'Horse Lord' will obviously be an Algar, or, with your new station in Melcene, it could very well indicate a native of those islands. I'm willing to bet that the 'Bear' will come from one of the four Alorn kingdoms, Belar is the Bear God after all. I have not yet been able to assertain the identities of the others as of yet. The descriptions are rather vage you understand. The Strength of the Gods could certainly prove intresting. It's strange though. When ever I think about the 'Trio from the Seer's Sight' I get a feeling that I should know what it means but I have no way to grasp the information. It is entirely possible that whatever power that is controlling and laying out these prophecies may very well be making sure that no one, even us, finds out what they truly mean until the appropriate time."

"God," Harry sighed in exasperation. "This whole situation makes absolutely no sense at all.

"Look, Haldar, this is how it works. Until recently we have always received our instructions from the Gods themselves. The two different 'awareness's' worked through the gods and they worked through us. With the Gods gone, now we have to get our information someplace else so these entities are now passing on information to us through these prophets." Belgarath explained slowly in a patronizing manner as if he were speaking to a two year old.

"I am perfectly aware of that, old man." Harry snapped back. He wasn't in the mood for sarcasm. "What I want to know is why we have to rely on these prophecies at all. Aldur told me that these writings will be very cryptic so that only a few select individuals may figure out their true meaning. If they are taking the effort to protect the information from enemies then why don't they just bring it direct to us? Or at the very least, tell us who the _genuine _prophets are. You have scribes taking down every word muttered by at least thirty lunatics in the west and Torak's doing the same. At this rate we're going to have to wade through thousands of pages of gibberish just to find one or two lines that may or may not be significant."

"It would certainly be much simpler if they did but this is what we have to work with and this is what we're stuck with."

MMM

Polgara stayed away from the tower for nearly a full week after her first 'lesson' with Harry and she still wasn't looking forward to going back but she knew she had to just the same. She spent her time sitting in 'her' tree, thinking over every word Harry had said. It's a hard thing to do, admit when you needed help. But while she would never admit it out loud she finally admitted it to herself and that was good enough. While she couldn't stand Harry one bit she recognized that he was extremely talented in the area, something his 'demonstration' certainly showed, and if he could train her to do the same she figured it would be worth putting up with him for a short time as long as he didn't take it to such extremes as he had previously.

Losing the connection with Beldaran quite literally turned her world upside down. All her life Beldaran was the rock that kept her grounded and kept her from wallowing in anger and hatred in the years that their father had been away. Of course when he returned to the Vale all that repressed anger was pulled back to the forefront of her mind. She never knew a day when she couldn't feel her calming presence and she relied heavily on the almost constant feelings of love and affection her sister had for her to keep some semblance of sanity. Like Harry, she found the constant company of only a few old men to be a bit tedious and while Harry was able to get away on his own for a number of years she was still stuck in her father's tower. It was only her connection to Beldaran that kept her from going insane.

For those few, _**long**_ moments she felt as if something deep within her very soul had been violently torn and twisted until it was brutally ripped out of her chest. She felt isolated in a way she never thought possible and the panic she felt was almost overwhelming as the walls seemed to close in around her. She forgot everything, what surrounded her, who was there and even what she had been doing previously. All she could think about was Beldaran and getting to her before it was too late. As near as she could possibly figure out, she felt much of the same as a man that had been blind and deaf all his life only to gain the use of his eyes to find himself in the middle of a battlefield. While most people would view gaining sight and hearing as a great gift, if you've never seen the world, or heard its sounds, having it suddenly thrust upon you would be a truly terrifying experience. She didn't know what Harry's reason for doing this was but even though she hated him he didn't seem the type to do something like that for no reason.

Then, of course, there was that short shock of pain he had hit her with. It was extremely short but it was by far the most excruciating moment she had ever lived through, on the physical level anyway, having her bond blocked was certainly number one on her list. She couldn't help thinking back to the day after Harry had first arrived in the Vale. When she had attacked his mind when he approached her tree he had easily thrown off the attack, claiming that she couldn't possibly understand pain enough to overcome him with such an attack. She couldn't help herself and agree. She didn't know it was possible for someone to inflict that much pain on someone and she had an inexplicable feeling that he could hurt her a great deal more if he were so inclined.

While she was there the twins had made sure that she had plenty of food every day and Belgarath and Beldin were smart enough to know that now was not the time to bother her while Harry probably couldn't care less how long she remained gone. She was in no rush to get back to the tower but, unfortunately, spending all your time in a tree had a tendency to attract a great deal of dirt and over the last few years she had gotten relitivly used to remaining clean. This was actually the first time in several years that she spent any great deal of time in the tree. She would still come out to sit in the tree every now and then but since her sister's wedding where she helped with the numerous redesigns of Beldaran's wedding dress, she had taken up sewing simply because she enjoyed it and it kept the hands occupied and let the mind wander. Sadly she left her sewing materials in the tower when she fled and didn't have them on hand so her tree was the only alternative when it came to needing a lot of time to think but after a week the dirt got to be to much for her so she climbed down and started to walk back to the tower just as the sun began to set.

MMM

The week since Polgara had retreated to the calm and peace of her tree had been spent with Belgarath exchanging information with Beldin and Harry. Nothing earth shattering had been happening which made them all happy as well as a little nervous. 'Mad Eye' Moody would have been proud of all the suspicion and paranoia that ran round the place. One thing that Harry found rather interesting was the formation of the Alorn Council. The rather informal meeting they had had after Beldaran and Riva's wedding had become a yearly tradition to be used to discuss diplomatic affairs and to keep the different monarchs up to speed with any information they had gathered. Basically it was just a large family reunion. They had large feasts, discussed matters of state and drank an awful lot of ale.

Almost immediately after it was decided to hold the annual conference early each summer an envoy arrived from Tol Honeth with a dispatch from the Emperor of Tolnedra requesting admittance into the Alorn Council. This request, of course, was denied since the Tolnedrans were not Alorns. This council was for the four Alorn kingdoms alone. Tolnedrans are a very suspicious people by nature. They live only to make money and scheme against rivals and friends alike. The fact that a group of monarchs were meeting every year and they were not invited led them to believe that the Alorns were conspiring against them.

Harry just shook his head at how stupid some people could be. The only other thing of consequence was the fact that Algar had unofficially renounced the title of 'king'. Harry was absolutely shocked to hear this until Belgarath explained. It seemed that in Alorn society the clan came before your country where priorities were concerned. As he was the most powerful of the clan chiefs in Algaria many of his subjects began to refer to him as the Chief of the Clan Chiefs. It's a bit of a mouth full but Algar was perfectly happy with it. He was never really comfortable being called a king although that is exactly what he is, just with a different title. Harry had just begun to digest this seemingly idiotic reference when Polgara finally decided to show herself once again. She didn't say anything or look at anyone, she just came in, grabbed a set cloths and what appeared to be a cake of soap before leaving once again. It seemed that maybe she was ready to take things a bit more seriously than before and that left Belgarath sighing nervously and Beldin rubbing his hands together eagerly. Harry just observed Aldur's oldest disciple with amusement. He couldn't possibly understand what the man was feeling but it was something that was going to have to be done.

Since Polgara had been gone, Harry spent three days sorting through his memories and using the full force of both his _will_ and his mind to replicate the effects of the _Imperious _curse. It was no surprise to Harry that both Beldin and Belgarath were able to throw the curse off almost immediately. The following day was spent teaching Belgarath how to do the same and to put it mildly, he was not thrilled about the idea of using it on his daughter. As soon as everything with Polgara got straightened out Harry fully intended to leave for the Isle of the Winds to visit Beldaran just as he said he would but he also knew that it was crucial for Polgara to begin her training immediately so he drafted Belgarath to help. While he is gone the old man will hopefully be able to help her overcome this bit of mind control and when Harry returns they can begin on something else. When Polgara returned from where she washed up in the river she just set about making supper as if she had never been gone in the first place.

"Fine, I'll learn from you." She said in a no nonsense tone without even turning to look in his direction. Even though she couldn't see him, Harry just raised an eyebrow. He found it a bit amusing that she seemed to think she had a choice in the matter.

"Very well." He responded simply. There was no need to start an argument when there was no need. The four sat in silence for quite some time as a pot of beef stew bubbled away over the fire. Not being able to take not knowing any more, Polgara finally turned to face Harry.

"Why did you do that?" She asked with the look of steel in her eyes. There may have been a time when such a glare would intimidate him but those days were long behind him. He knew exactly what she was talking about and didn't need to ask for an explanation.

"I synthesized the _Cruciatus_ curse to give you a taste of what is to come. Part of your training will involve pain management for the simply fact that your enemies will not always follow the niceties when it comes to dealing with women. A mind overwhelmed by pain does not operate as it should. To survive you must be able to think clearly and rationally without dwelling on your own pain or the sights and sounds of thousands of men dieing all around you. You must learn to turn these feelings off.

"As for your bond with Beldaran, I blocked it for several reasons. The first and foremost reason was that it showed you exactly what one can do to an unprotected mind such as yours. Until I blocked your bond you thought you were safe, protected. Now you know that you need help. The second reason is pretty much the same reason why I hit you with that burst of pain. You must keep a level head at all times if you are going to live. I understand perfectly what that block must have done to you, however if this room was filled with Grolims at the time you would have forgotten all about them in your rush to get to your sister. You would be dead, possibly all of us would be dead and you would never have been able to reach Beldaran in time. If a situation arises and your sister needs your help, you must first stay alive yourself before you will be able to help her." For the next twenty minutes Harry detailed everything he had already told Beldin and Belgarath about her bond and the potential 'side effects' it could have if it were ever severed. Polgara sat there for several minutes with an absolutely shocked expression on her face. She simply could not conceive how something that had been so wonderful through out her whole life could suddenly turn into a nightmare if something were to happen to her sister.

"So, what do we do now?" She asked uncertainly.

"For now you will train with your father on the basics of the _mind arts._ He weill get you started on the theory and meditation needed to begin shielding your mind and he will also work with you to overcome a powerful mind control technique while I go to the Isle of the Winds. I promised Beldaran that I would visit her and its been over six years now, better late than never I suppose but I better get it out of the way. But first I have to stop by Muros and see what all the fuss is about."

"Are you sure they're there yet?" Beldin asked.

"Well Algar was preparing to lead the herds through the mountains when I ran in to them ten days ago so I can only assume they're at least halfway through the pass by now. Besides, I want to hurry up and pay Algar for his horse. With my luck he's probably adding more to the price every day."

"Didn't you have any money at all?"

"Yes, I did. But the long legged oaf wouldn't take Mallorean money, said it was against his religion or some such rubbish. Personally I think he just likes screwing with people in odd ways. He may be the silent type but he's sharp as a tack and has a very strange sense of humor."

"Are you sure you should be going to Riva now?" Belgarath asked looking at Harry intently. "You do have a task to perform after all."

"Belgarath, Aldur has been on my back for two years now to come back here to train Polgara, putting it off for another couple of months isn't going to cause any big fuss. Besides, she'll have plenty to do. Shaking your influence out of her mind will require her undivided attention. But when you gain control of her, only have her perform minuscule tasks, or something she enjoys."

"Now whys that?" Polgara asked in an almost neutral manner. However it wasn't Harry that answered but Beldin.

"Because it will be harder, I would think." He answered simply. "I would imagine that this _curse_ would be easier to shake off if you were forced to do something you wouldn't normally do. It would give you a greater incentive to fight it. If it was just some everyday chore, however, you may not really see any harm or threat in the action and perform the task without thinking much about it. By training you with nothing but simple orders it might actually make you stronger once you learn to fight it. Either that or the boring monotony of your training will drive us all insane."

MMM

"So, have you found anything else interesting about that feather?" Harry asked Beltira early the next morning before he set out again. The twins had 'borrowed' Harry's phoenix feather from Beldin when he returned from Mallorea a few years before so that they could get a chance to study it.

"We weren't able to determine anything our brother hadn't already found until we put it in the fire. We wanted to study its ashes to…"

"You burned it?" Harry gasped as he looked at the old man with wide eyes.

"Well, that's what we tried to do. But no matter what we tried the fire just didn't seem capable of catching and the feather remained unharmed. We were able to determine that either fire has no effect on it or, and most likely considering what you have told us of a phoenix, the feather cannot be destroyed because in a way it is still connected to the bird and he is still alive. It is quite fascinating really." Not really wanting to test the theory that the feather couldn't be destroyed as long as Fawkes alive, Harry decided to take the feather back and keep it with him at all times. He chose to connect it to a small steel clasp that he ran through the strip of leather he used to tie his hair back.

Unfortunately the twins were unable to learn very much about his photo album or his invisibility cloak. Harry knew next to nothing about photography so he couldn't tell them very much about how the images were captured and they couldn't determine what chemicals were used without ruining one of the photographs and that was something Harry would not allow. They didn't seem to have any good news concerning the invisibility cloak either. It would give him a great advantage but if it became damaged in anyway he wouldn't be able to get it repair since the components that gave it its invisibility didn't exist in this world. Considering it was the only possession he had that belonged to either of his parents, he wasn't going to take the chance that it would get ruined. He wrapped the cloak up carefully and placed it in the bottom of his trunk.

"Haldar, what exactly is the purpose of these?" The old Alorn asked as he held up a small bag of Filibuster Fireworks. "We intended to study them next but as long as you are here could you give us any information you may have?"

"Did you study everything that was in my trunk while I was away?" Harry asked in amusement.

"Pretty much, yes." Beltira replied after a few moments of mock thought. "Your old schoolbooks were most enlightening. We were able to use our _will _and our minds to achieve many of the results described. But why did you have so many more on fighting than any other subject?"

"A few reasons actually. Defense was my best subject so I tended to study it more and the fact that I had a psychotic wizard out for my blood made it essential that I learn as much as I could in that area. Plus most people seemed to have this image of me as some sort of _super human_ that defeated dark wizards every other day. As you know, I was quite famous on my previous world so many people, most whom I had never even met, would send me gifts for my birthday or other holiday. More often than not it would be a book on defensive and offensive curses." Harry explained while he chastised himself for never buying any books that detailed long term charms and wards that could be placed on inanimate objects. Protection charms would have given them an overwhelming advantage if a city of town was under attack.

"As for these," Harry continued as he reached for the bag of the fireworks. He grinned widely when he set it off causing Beltira to yelp as he jumped back before looking at all the bright shimmering lights in wonder. "Yes they are pretty nice, aren't they? Sadly, I won't be telling you anything about them." That comment tore the man's attention away from the fading lights and he looked at Harry like he had just strangled his only puppy.

"Why not?" He was a bit surprised to hear the several thousand year old man whine like a two year old but quickly shook that off.

"Because the compounds that cause the loud pop and the lights can easily be used for a less entertaining purpose." He knew what gun powder and other explosive compounds were made up of, even if he didn't know the exact measurements, and that was information he intended to keep to himself.

"What do you mean?"

"The chemicals that are in these innocent looking toys could level buildings, even whole cities if used in large enough quantities. In my world people use explosives for a lot of things, none of which I want to see here. My world could literally be destroyed at any moment if the wrong people gained control of the powerful weapons they created and people have leveled whole mountains to build a simple road or to find a few pounds of silver or gold. Any information I have about the weapons of my world, or anything that can be used as a weapon, I'm going to keep to myself. I like this world just the way it is." Harry had never had any strong opinions on environmental control or banning handguns but seeing a world that didn't need this level of activism gave him a strong desire to protect it from such a fate. While there were a great deal of impoverished people and the warfare of this world was ghastly, large conflicts were rare. For sure, there were the normal border scurmishes between the Alorns and Angaraks but it had been over a thousand years since a full scale war had been fought between the various kingdoms.

In his home world, war was much more common, probably because of the invention of many long range weapon systems as well as modern communication devises. Before such advances were made the leaders of different armies, whether it was a general or even a king, had to literally be on the battlefield so that they knew exactly what was going on and could change tactics at a moments notice. It was this reason alone that prevented many wars throughout human history. People were always hesitant to put themselves in danger if it wasn't needed. Even the Arends, who were notorious for their bravery and skill in battle would much rather participate in jousting tournaments and write bad poetry than hack a man down in battle. Although they would not hesitate if the oppertunity arose.

Now, however, the leaders of these armies no longer had to be anywhere near the fighting. They could easily send their soldiers off to fight while they remained behind, safe in the knowledge that their enemies could not reach them. Harry was determined that he would not allow this to happen to this world Harry put the remainder of the fireworks in his pocket before he left a pouting Beltira behind him and went to find his twin brother to say goodbye.

He left the Vale a few hours before noon and thankfully the horse Algar had 'given' him was perfectly capable of riding at a fast canter for long periods of time without tiring. He was also quite spirited and very enthusiastic. He seemed to find the wildlife that surrounded them very intriguing and would frequently leave their trail, despite Harry's best efforts, to 'inspect' some plant or tracks left behind by small animals that fled as the curious horse approached. He liked the horse, he really did, he just found him to be a bit, unreliable.

He was in no big hurry so Harry skirted the western border of Algaria lazily as he headed north. He kept his eye sharp as he scanned the mountainous terrain to the west for any sign of hostility. For the most part the 'monsters' that dwell in the mountains of Ulgo don't venture to far out but there are occasional sightings and a number of attacks on the Arendia side of the mountains during the winter when food in the higher altitudes is short. Harry was interested in seeing some of these animals but he would rather see them on his own terms rather than be surprised by a sudden attack.

Harry's assumption was proven correct we he reached the 'Stronghold', as he found people referred to the small city with massive walls, to find the herds and most of the clansmen gone. All that remained were a couple thousand cows that were kept for breeding and food and probably a thousand horses. Everything else was gone and with any luck not a one will be coming back. He could only guess how much all that livestock would bring but it was obvious that the different clans weren't going to be strapped for cash any time soon if they could sell off every head they took with them. He had no reason to stop so he rode on past the Stronghold for several more hours before stopping for the night.

MMM

Riva stood silently on the wharf outside the citidel with his wife Beldaran and his cousin Anrak as they watched one of Charek's warboats make it's way smoothly into the harbor. Word had gotten to them a few days before that Harry was on his way to Camaar so he quickly arranged for one of his father's ships to meet him in the port city to transport him directly to the Isle. While the youngest of the Alorn monarchs didn't know him as well as Beldaran or Anrak he had taken a liking to him during the weeks he had spent on the island before and after his wedding and though she hid it very well he knew perfectly well that his queen greatly missed her friend and was terribly worried about him while he was on his own in Mallorea.

In the last six years since their wedding there hadn't really been that many changes but the nearly constent preparations for a war that may not even come for centuries made it seem as if their lives had been violently uprooted and thrust into a game of worldwide politics that he barely understood. Despite the various political wrangling, primarily between Charek Bear-Shoulders and the Emperor of Tolnedra over the issue of piracy, the most important achievment over the last few years was the fact that Riva _finally_ accepted the fact that he was a king. Riva was perhaps the kindest man that you could ever come across. While he may not have been as great a warrior as his brother Dras or as intellgent as Algar, though he was no slouch in either area, he had a certain, an almost childlike innocence about him that immediately let everyone know that he was a man that you could instantly trust with your life if it were necessary. Although he was certainly not thrilled with the responsibility, he felt his family was being torn apart when Aloria was broken up into four separete kingdoms, though he tried to be the best ruler he could be under the circumbstances. He was king for one purpose and that was to guard the Orb.

His marrige to Beldaran changed his outlook a bit. While he still tries to do the best job he can, he now goes about it with a sense of pride, not only in what he was doing at the time but also in what those actions would eventually lead to, according to Belar anyway. The Bear God, well any god really, could be a bit cryptic at times.

As the ship drifted closer he could see Harry standing at the bow but it was not the same Harry he remembered. It had been six years after all. He was wearing his normal leather traveling cloths and wasn't much taller but he had filled out a little more and lost what was left of any boyish features that had adorned his face. He had a thin beard that was kept well trimmed with long black hair that must have reached nearly to his waist but was currently tied back. His peircing emerald green eyes seemed to take in everything around him with hawk like attention. With what little he had heard concerning his time in Mallorea he could only speculate that the younger man was being watchful for possible threats. Looking around at the noblemen, or more importantly, the noble women that were also watching the approaching vessel, the youngest of the Alorn monarchs sighed quietly as he realised that he would probably have to sooth more than a few ruffled feathers by the time Harry leaves. This act rewarded him with a discreet elbow to the ribs by his wife.

The last thing he noticed was probably the most important. He did not look happy, at all. In fact, he looked down right pissed off. The crew of the war boat however looked to be having a good time, presumably at Harry's expense. Obviously not able to take it a second more, Harry reached down before throwing a large canvous duffle bag over his shoulder. Without looking behind himself he took several long strides backwards before breaking into a run across the deck. The sailors paused in their laughter to look at Harry curiously, wondering what he was doing exactly concidering, even during the summer the waters surrounding the Isle of the Winds were cold enough to kill you within minutes.

Placing his right foot on the railing he made a running leap towards the warf when they were still at least twenty meters off. With barely a second thought, Harry pushed his _Will_ out both below him, to keep himself airborn, as well as behind him to keep moving forward. The absolute silence that followed was broken only when his feet slammed into the wet stone of the warf and, try as he might, he couldn't keep his balance and nearly fell on his face until Riva reached out to steady him.

"Thank you, Your Magesty!" Harry greeted as he glasped the other man's hand just to get the formalities out of the way.

"It's good to see you again my young friend." Given the fact that he was absolutely filthy, being aboard a cramped ship for two days doesn't exactly give you much time for hygine, he simply kissed the back of Beldaran's hand while giving her a warm smile which she happily return.

"If you say one word I'll cut you open and pull your guts out an inch at a time." Harry growled to Anrak who was watching him with bright eyes and a smirk on his lips. The threat didn't seem to do much good as the tall Alorn laughted heartily and clapped him on the back although Beldaran did have the good graces to stiffle her giggle. An hour later Harry joined his friends in the royal apartments after taking a long bath. He felt a great deal better but knowing Anrak's personality like he did it probably wouldn't last. The man was nearly twenty years older than him but he could behave childishly at times. After greeting Beldaran with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek she retreated to the nursery to check on her sleeping son, probably to let her husband and his cousin poke fun at Harry without having to worry about the possibility of offending her.

"Alright, lets hear it." Harry sighed in defeat as he sat down in the plush armchair near the fire after he heard to door close behind Beldaran. Anrak was laughing like a fool but thankfully Riva was more reserved though no less amused.

"You should have known the response your actions would bring, Haldar, particularly among the Alorns."

"How the hell could I have known Beldin would find _that_ much information on me not to mention the fact that he appears to be such a gossip. Nearly everyone I have run into since I left the Vale seems to think that I have seduced every noblewoman in Mallorea."

"Well if it upset you so much why didn't you just avoid them?"

"Because I didn't know. I only talked with Dras briefly and Algar didn't say a word though I'm beginning to suspect why he insisted I stop by Muros on my way here and no one in the Vale mentioned it."

"Well Belgarath wouldn't. He spent way too much time with similar persuits to call attention to someone else. From what I understand he is working to better his relationship with Polgara so he wouldn't bring the subject up since that is one of the things she hated him for. Beldin, on the other hand, probably didn't warn you because he thought it would be funny. How did things go in Muros?"

"Two days of Hell." Harry answered in a stressed tone. "It was loud, the smell was awful and I had to endure an astronomical number of very bad jokes. Your brother's men seem to think that they should send me down to Cthol Murgos for a few years until Alorns outnumber the Murgos themselves."

"Alorns?" Anrak asked in confusion that was mirrored by Riva.

"They don't know where I really come from remember and Haldar is an Alorn name. Any way, the Arends that were camped not far off were obviously not amused with the line of discusion nor were they terribly impressed with some of my 'adventures' and as such they went out of their way to keep a sharp eye on me at all times, especially when Arend women were nearby."

"I haven't yet seen the cattle fair but I'm surprised that a full war had not broken out during the auctions with so many Arends present at once. Algar had a great deal of trouble making sure that the Mimbrates and Asturians were granted safe passage so that they could attend as well but sooner or later it is going to boil over. The Arends hate each other more than us Alorns hate the Angaraks."

"Well the land may belong to the Duke of Wacune and his soldiers may techniqually have juristiction but it is Algar and his warriors that control the area until the fair is over. Since its their livelyhood on the line they will tolerate no agression and even the Wacite soldiers follow his orders. As an added precaution they set up the camps so that the different Arends were kept well away from each other. All things concidered, I'm not terribly impressed by the Arends. I intended to give them a chance without everyone elses opinions influencing me but I have come to learn that the Arends reputation for stupidity is well deserved. Didn't care much for the Tolnedrans for that matter."

"Nobody's impressed by the Tolnedrans except Tolnedrans. They're greedy schemers that believe everything of importance revolves around them and everyone else is full of envy at their magnifecence." Anrak spat in disgust. Most Alorns shared similar views on the Tolnedran Empire and if they stopped fighting each other long enough the Arends would probably agree if they had the intellectual capacity to look beyond mere appearences. Harry was perfectly prepared to make his own judgement on the various kingdoms, even the Angarak kingdoms, without being swayed by the opinions of others but thus far he was sorely disappointed by the Arends and Tolnedrans. Listening to Belgarath and Beldin it sounded almost exactly like Professor Snape discribing Gryffindor students back at Hogwarts but he had seen little that contradicted their assessment of either race.

The Arends love for flowery and formal speech he could deal with, although it gave him a terrible headache, but their seemingly natural draw towards acts of stupidity left him exasperated in an extreme sense of the word. No doubt, if one were to jump from the castle walls of Vo Mimbre, the seat of power of the Duke of Mimbre, another would quickly follow just to prove that he was just as fearless as the man who jumped first. The fact that Arendia was the only kingdom in the west that approved of the use of serfs was also a sore point for him. It was just to similar to an institution of slavery for his comfort. nearly half of the population was in extreme poverty and in service to one nobleman or another and the simple fact that that was how things were always done by the Arends almost garunteed that that was how it would always be. They didn't seem to have enough imagination to think of other ways of doing things. If it went against 'tradition' they didn't want to learn about it.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts as Beldaran reentered the room with her four year old son in tow. He was a sturdy young man with thick dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that shined with intellegence. Even at that young age he seemed to exude confidance and dignity. He certainly showed a great deal of promise for the king he would one day be. In a strange sort of way he reminded Harry of a young Remus Lupin which startled him somewhat since he hadn't really given much thought to his old friends on his home world for a few years now.

The four sat and talked lightly for a time as Daran played on the other side of the room. His three companions were rather shocked to learn that he was now a Melcene nobleman but quickly found the idea absolutely hilarious though both Riva and Anrak were disapointed to learn that he would not directly use his position to weaken Mallorea. Chances are, any attempts to do so would cost him that position as the other nobles would rally against him, though they might do so anyway but there was no need to push the issue when it wasn't needed.

A couple of hours later both Riva and Anrak had to go back to their duties so Harry sat with Beldaran for a while longer, just enjoying being with his friend once more. He was glad to see that she was genuinely happy with her new lot in life although she didn't seem to care much for the weather on the Isle of the Winds.

"What was your mother like?" Harry asked a bit nervously after discussing his feelings about his former home for a while. It was a question he had wondered at for a long time now but never wanted to upset her with it. He knew better than most what it felt like to never know your family so he just wondered what she knew since, unlike him, she was obviously raised by people that had loved and cared for her mother a great deal. He had asked Beldin about Poledra once when they first left for Mallorea after Beldaran's wedding and Harry was surprised to see that man nearly close to tears before turning away. He knew perfectly well how Belgarath would react to such a question and given Beldin's response he could only imagine how the more sensitive twins would take it.

"Oh, well, she actually started off as a wolf." Beldaran began without showing a hint of reluctance or sadness. He would later find that despite growing up without their mother physically present, both Beldaran and Polgara could always feel her with them. A presence Belgarath obviously did not feel given the great strides he had taken to push Poledra from his mind to hide the pain of her loss. It took Harry a moment as he blinked stupidly before Beldaran's words actually registered in his mind.

"She what?" His younger friend seemed to take great amusement in his reaction, which is probably why she phrased her statement the way she did, before explaining.

Apparently, yes, Poledra had infact been born a wolf and first met Belgarath when he was traveling, in the form of a wolf, north from the Vale into Aloria to search for Belar when Torak first came to the Vale and stole the Orb. Despite his reluctance to 'mate', she chose to accompany him, seemingly finding both him and his task 'remarkable'. Couldn't really blame Belgarath, explaining to his 'brothers', as well as his Master, how he had come to sire a litter of puppies would surely have been incredably embarassing. She rarely left his side after that.

She was there when the other six gods led their armies against Torak and his Angaraks, she was there when Torak raised the Orb and cracked the world. And she was by his side for many centuries afterwards. When asked how she survived so long, she merely replied that wolves live as long as they choose to. Then one day while they were relaxing in Belgarath's tower, he used his _Will _and she seemed to come to an understanding of how he was doing it. Needless to say, he got the shock of his life when she suddenly changed into the form of a snowy owl, a form she greatly enjoyed. But, as time continued to wear on and she was still unable to draw his 'attention' in this form, she chose to leave.

It wasn't until this time that Belgarath realised how much she meant to him, not romantically of course, but she had been his almost constant companion for well over one thousand years so naturally he would feel the loss. That is until one day he came across a small cottage along the northern edge of the vale after studying the 'magic' of the Demon worshipers of the Morindim and desided that as long as they had some new neighbors, he might as well meet them.

The only occupant was a young woman, Poledra, with light tawney hair and a strange golden colored eyes. She didn't seem particularly impressed with his introductions so he figured she was some kind of a hermit and lived out in the countryside simply to get away from other people. He was about to leave when she invited him in for supper before immediately sending him outside again to wash up, she was very neat and didn't take kindly to offensive odors. There was a familiararity about her manner and speech that he couldn't place but paid it no mind. For several days, he found one reason or another to delay his return to his Master to report his findings, instead choosing to remain in her company but soon had to leave and was delighted that she chose to accompany him. She didn't return to her cottage after that, instead moving into Belgarath's tower which certainly raised the collective eyebrows of his brothers but if you dared suggest that anything inappropriate occured he would likely kill you, though it did take an awful lot of restraint on his part until the following spring when Aldur himself blessed their union.

Harry listened to Beldaran with rapt attention. After being on this world for nine years now he honestly didn't think anything he could see or hear would surprise him but hearing that his best friends mother was actually born a wolf was just bizaar. He was by no means making judgements because he coudn't honestly tell you what he would do if he were in Belgarath's position but it just seemed unreal. He of course knew that their were many animals that held an intellence far greater than regular people could imagine but until now he did not think that it was possible for an animal to use their own will in such a way. Well it certainly left him something to think about in any case.

After about another hour of lighthearted conversation, Harry left the royal apartments and left Beldaran to look after her son as he made his way to the fortress library to see if there was anything that would peak his interest. As he walked along the stone corridors he got the distinct feeling that he was being followed but every time he looked back he could not see nor hear any evidence of movement. Sending out a light probe with his mind briefly touched that of his pursuer before he quickly withdrew. He had no idea who the man was or his capabilities so he didn't want to give himself away incase he happened to share similar talents. With a small smirk on his lips, Harry turned back to finish his journey to the tower that held the small library. When he reached his destination he purposely left the door open slightly so that his stalker would be able to follow without fear of rusted hinges announcing his presence. If this man meant him harm he much prefered to find out as soon as possible rather than dodging him for the duration of his stay on the island.

He kept his mind absolutely focused as he stepped behind one of the unorganized shelves of tomes and scrolls and promptly vanished from sight. It wasn't exactly true invisibility but rather using the combined effort of his mind and his _will_ to literally bend light around his body. It was a great deal more effective than the disillusionment charms back on earth but it had the same drawback, such as being able to see a faint outline if he moved about in various degrees of light although his method cut that down to a fraction of that of the charm. It had taken him four years of intense study of various forms of light before he could even begin to make it work correctly but after that it was just a matter of shifting the light into the most effective directions and practice. He had his first completely successful test just last week, shortly after he left Muros.

Taking a few moments to make sure he had gotten everything correct, Harry smirked lightly to himself as he soundlessly stepped back out from behind the shelves and moved back towards the far wall that was just to the right of the door. He had kept up a very light probe in the corridor outside so he knew the man was still there. He waited for a little over an hour before he caught the first signs of movement near the door itself. A very small piece of highly polished steel was carefully pushed up underneith door, an action that Harry privetely approaved of. By going underneith the door rather than just sticking the dagger into the room around the open door he could easily get a better view as quick as possible as well as cutting down the chances of the action being noticed.

'Well, at least I'm not dealing with an amature.' Harry thought to himself as the tip of the dagger dissapeared as quickly as it had come. It seemed like every time some Grolim or other unsavory character came after him they just came charging in with weapons drawn, there was no subtlety. This man however seemed to have no problem taking his time and he clearly wasn't about to just run into a room without knowing the layout and where the threat was. He obviously saw no visible threat as he swiftly moved in the door and disapeared behind a nearby shelf. He appeared to be just under six feet tall and probably a hundred and eighty pounds. A dark cloak was wrapped about him with the hood hiding his face. His right hand was concealed in the over the left side of his chest, more than likely gripping a weapon on some kind. Harry was slightly impressed that the man could could move through the slight opening so fast without making a sound. The man would have to die, sure, but he was impressed nonetheless.

After a few silent minutes, he reemerged on the other side of the room and seemed to look around in confusion. Almost without warning, his right arm snapped out and Harry's eyes went wide as the flash of steel came spinning at him at an alarming speed. He moved aside just in time as the strange triangular blade lodged itself deep into the hard wood of the shelf that was mere inches from his head. Seeing as how his invisibility was apparently useless at the moment, Harry quickly dropped it and drew his sword just as the man lept towards him, his own weapon apppearing in his hand so fast it almost seemed to appear out of no where. Nope, he was definitely not dealing with an amature.

The clash of steel on steel echoed off the walls as they traded blows at a feverish pace, neither man left any opening large enough for the other to capitalize effectively. Harry had just blocked a strong overhand swing when he was kick hard in the chest, causing him to stumble back several steps but he quickly righted himself and drew a long dagger with his left hand, his opponent did the same. The sounds of a fight obviously carried out of the room as the door was thrown wide open and several armed guards, led by Anrak, rushed in.

"Stay out of this!" Harry snapped loudly as he warded off the next attack. Anrak and the others didn't put their weapons away but stood well back from the two combatants and shouted out in excitement. Alorns were always very enthusiatic about such things whether they were the ones fighting or not. Within a few minutes the two stood with their swords and daggers locked together as they attempted to gain any extra leverage they could over the other. Pushing forward, Harry headbutted the man directly in the nose and quickly followed it up with a sharp kick to his right knee, causing him to drop his dagger and cry out in pain as it broke with a wet pop. Harry was impressed with how swiftly the man shook off the pain but it was obvious to everyone that this fight was just about over. The man couldn't walk, he could barely stand, and his sight was impaired as his eyes slowly began to swell shut but he didn't seem to have any intention of simply giving up. He was sent here for a reason and he intended to see it done even at the cost of his own life.

With a strangled cry he lurched forward on his one good leg and tried to run his sword right through Harry's chest, a move that he easily blocked but just barely caught the man's other hand as he attempted to crush a vial of some grey liquid upside his head. Not knowing what he substance was, Harry chose to end the fight quickly by kicking his sword out of his hand before bringing his own blade up with a stonge backhanded swing that slashed into him from his right hip all the way up to his left shoulder.

"Are you all right, my friend?" Anrak asked as he approached the younger man.

"Yeah, just a bit winded. He was a lot better than any of the others." Harry replied, breathin deeply.

"This happens to you often?" He asked with a raised eyebrow causing Harry to chuckle lightly.

"At least once every couple of months some Grolim or mercenary gives me a little grief. If I don't find them first, of course."

"Aren't the Grolims all sorcerers, why don't they simply ambush you and use their freakish powers on you?"

"No, not all Grolims have that ability." Harry responded, not taking offence to his comments about his powers. "You have four types, or rather levels, of Grolims. The ones with plain black robes are basicly at the bottom rung of the ladder. Above them you have priests with either green, red or purple trim on their hoods. To rise above the green they have to have at least some talent but the vast majority of them are just normal people that have to do it the old fashioned way. As for ambushing me, well, they have to fnd me first but usually I can pick up on them before they have a chance to do much of anything so it hasn't worked out for them so far."

"Well why didn't you use your powers on this guy?" One of Anrak's men asked curiously as two others checked over the dead man's body for anything that might identify him.

"Because I wanted to see which of us was better." Harry shrugged as if it were the most logical answer in the world. "I could have easily entered his mind and know what moves he was going to make and when but that just felt like cheating so I just kept up a light probe to gather any surface thoughts that might be relevant. Does the name Kalshak mean anything to you?" Anrak took a moment to think before nodding his head slightly.

"It sounds familiar, why?"

"One thing I picked up on was that he is, or rather was, fiercely loyal to both Ctuchik and someone named Kalshak."

"SIR!" Both Harry and Anrak spun around to see one of the guards pulling the strange triangular weapon out of the shelf where it nearly became part of Harry's head only minutes before. Harry had never seem such a weapon before but it was clear Anrak had.

_"DAGASHI"_ Ankrak spat with hatred. His men seemed just as angry but for his part Harry was confused.

"Who, or what, is Dagashi?"

"The Dagashi is an order of spies and assassins that cropped up about fifteen years ago among the Murgos. They are some of Ctuchik's pets, they take orders from no one else, not even their own king. At first they weren't very subtle but after a short period they apparently decided that discretion was good policy. Since then we haven't really heard anything about them. There are many deaths that they are probably responsible for but they guard their secrets very closely and we have never been able to take one alive."

"Then this right here?" Harry asked as he tapped the glass vial on the floor with the tip of his sword.

"I can only imagine that he intended for it to kill the both of you. He would have known that he couldn't possibly hope to escape this room alive and being captured alive would have been unexceptable to any Murgo. It would have been dishonorable."

"I thought all Murgos made cuts on their faces, as a blood offering to Torak."

"Normally they do. No Murgo can step foot in a temple until they do but the Dagashi usually draw the blood from another part of their body, the lack of the obvious scars on their faces allows them to move around more effectively."

"I can understand that, but why would Ctuchik send an assassin after me? I've never even been to Cthol Murgos. It would seem Belgarath would be a more inviting target for him." Harry mused out loud.

"Maybe Urvon asked him to, from what I understand, he doesn't like you very much." Riva chimed in as he stepped through the door with a grim look on his face.

"No, Urvon, Ctuchik and Zeder despise each other with a hatred that is almost religous, they would never ask for, or recieve, help from each other unless they were acting directly on Torak's orders. Come to think of it, Torak would have a pretty big interest in seeing me dead so thats one obvious possibility."

"Then why doesn't he kill you himself, he is a god after all?" A new vioce entered the discussion. Harry looked at the man in confusion for a moment, not remembering if he had met him before.

"Haldar, this is Brand, the Rivan Warder. He handles the basic day to day operations around here, allowing me to focus on the most important things."

"Nice to meet you. Now, as to Torak. He probably can't kill me directly at the moment if he's relying on assassins. The same annoying 'awarenesses' thats either pushing us to, or preventing us from, doing something obviously effects him as well. Such as when you first stole the Orb from Cthol Mishrak, it kept him asleep so that he could not interfere. He may be a god but he is not above the power of the Universe and it seems to be putting just as many restrictions on him as it is us.

"So, what is this, thing?" Harry asked as he picked up the strange blade that had been placed on the table.

"Not sure what its called but they seem to be a favorite of the Dagashi. As you can obviously imagine, with three sides and every outer edge sharpened like a razor, its much more effective than throwing a dagger. More accurate to. I've heard that if they're particularly skilled with the weapon they could even throw it and hit a target around a corner."

"Really," Harry's eyebrows rose with interest. "I think I'll hang onto this little beauty then."

TBC


	7. Gods Amongst Men

TO END ALL WARS

By

Padfootjr24

Chapter Seven: Gods Amongst Men

It was a downcast group that entered the London branch of Gringotts on the morning of July thirtieth. The small procession of Hogwarts students, professors and other prominent citizens had been summoned to witness the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Sirius Black. The group, led by Albus Dumbledore, was led through a maze-like series of corridors before they came upon a large set of dark oak doors that were inlaid with gold and silver. Before the most studious of their group could ponder the meaning of the runes that adorned them, they soundlessly swung open to reveal a dimly lit conference room that held one long oval table that appeared to be made out of highly polished granite with twelve ornate high backed chairs on either side. Four of which were already occupied.

"WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?" Ron Weasley shouted as he caught sight of Draco Malfoy. The blond Slytherin merely smirked while his mother looked on with uncaring eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy is here because he is the only logical choice to head the Black family now that Lord Black has passed on." Jakoby Smythe, the Malfoys' lawyer sneered. Beside him sat Anderson Pickett, attorney for Bellatrix Lestrange. He had a look about him that clearly said that he believed being present at this particular reading was a waste of his time, unlike the Malfoys who obviously seemed to think that they had a great deal to gain.

Mrs. Weasley was quick to hit her youngest son with silencing charm before leading him to a chair as far away from Draco as possible. The visual presence of the goblin guards that lined the side walls was enough to instill the desire for silence in all that had not yet been through this process before. It wasn't long after everyone was seated that a rather smug looking man was escorted in by a goblin that made Dumbledore look like a school boy. Despite the fact that he was positively ancient and carried a cane in his gnarled fist, he moved at a brisk pace, even smacking the Headmaster in the knee with said cane to get him out of his way when the old man stood to greet him. An action that earned a giggle of all things from Malfoy, but was quickly silenced by a pointed glare from his mother. No young man of his breeding should 'giggle' for Merlin's sake.

"Lets get this over with!" The old goblin began without an introduction. "Tilson, do you have anything pertinent to add before we begin?" He asked the man who accompanied him inside that had taken a seat across from Ron at the end of the table.

"My client's only instructions are to be carried out in the event that this Will is contested, so I have nothing to add at this time."

"Very well." He grunted before looking over a piece of parchment and scanning everyone present. "Where is Harry James Potter?" This question earned another giggle from Malfoy while his mother and lawyer smirked. Just about everyone else looked down at the table as they tried to keep their conflicting emotions about Harry's disappearance under control.

"Mr. Potter is currently..."

"I am here to represent young Mr. Potter's interests!" A familiar voice cut the Headmaster off. Everyone snapped their heads around to the darkened corner behind them where a figure stepped out of the shadows. Judging by the fact that the guards dropped into a defensive position, they clearly didn't know he was there either which was another feat altogether. Those that had met the man before were quite surprised at his presence but it was the goblins' reaction to him that shocked them all.

"Lord Belar, it is an honor!" The old goblin intoned as he bowed low, the guards copied this movement as well before stepping back into their former positions.

"Gurak, its always a pleasure!" Belar responded as he sat down next to Remus.

"Now that the formalities are out of the way, we can proceed." 'Gurak' said in a much kinder tone as if the strange man's appearance just made his day. Dumbledore and many others, including Bill Weasley, were looking at Belar with peculiar expressions considering the usual cold nature of goblins when dealing with humans. Even Merlin himself was treated in this manner. Bill Weasley, who had just returned after nearly a month from a particularly difficult job for Gringotts two days before, was watching the strange man with wide eyes, an action that was not lost on the others present.

"Now see here, who is this vagabond to come in here claiming to speak on Potter's behalf. For all we know..." Whatever Jakoby Smythe was going to say was cut off with a sudden gasp as he suddenly had half a dozen spears pressed firmly against his throat and the looks in the eyes of those that held them showed that they would have no problem pushing them just a bit further.

"LORD BELAR'S WORD IS NOT TO BE QUESTIONED!" Gurak's voice thundered throughout the room as he glared at the lawyer with hate spilling from every word. "Sit down." He commanded through clenched teeth. And Smythe was very happy to comply. After all, it did mean that the spears were taken off from his neck. Dumbledore observed Belar closely while this confrontation was taking place and was intrigued to see that he was looking on with a look closely resembling anticipation before he sighed and quietly muttered something that sounded something like, "I miss my Alorns."

'Alorns? What's an Alorn?' The Headmaster thought to himself as he tried to grasp some understanding about the man. According to him, Harry was in the custody of his brother so it would be the wisest course of action to find out just who Belar and his brother were and learn what their motives and long term goals were. Over all, Belar didn't appear to be the Death Eater type but he was clearly both powerful and intelligent and there were much more effective ways of rising to power than just the violent methods used by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The last thing they needed was for Harry to return only to defeat Voldemort and claim power for himself under the guise of creating a 'safe and orderly society'.

Dumbeldore has always thought that he was working for the greater good of mankind but he also knew that that ideal could easily be twisted to represent not the greater good of society in general but the greater good simply as another saw it, meaning quite simply that it wouldn't take much to pervert a man's vision for what is best for the world to what that man deems is best. While the world 'might' be safer, it was bought at the expense of those that he was supposed to be protecting. He allowed himself a quiet chuckle as he remembered the aftermath of the war with Grindlewald. He was placed in that exact situation and could have literally done anything he wanted to ensure the safety of the magical world and the general public would have wholeheartedly followed him. He would have been lying if he said that he wasn't tempted by such power but in the end he turned it down in favor of returning to Hogwarts and let the various European ministries take care of the rebuilding in their own ways. He was honest enough with himself that he could readily admit that he would have done all in his power to prevent a person from being harmed in even something as mundane as a simple magical accident. Fortunately for him he was already well aware of the fact that it was the little evils in the world that made life worth living. People must always have the right to make decisions on their own without an outside influence pressuring them to choose one path or the other simply because it was for their own good. It wasn't until recently that he realized that he had in fact taken that very choice away from Harry and even members of his own Order on many occasions and it left him feeling slightly dirty on the inside.

Gurak glared at the Smythe for a few moments more before withdrawing what appeared to be a small bar of blackened steel from his robes and placed it on the table in front of him, snapping Albus out of his thoughts. After a short moment a thin beam of red light rose up into the air from the bar and spread apart until if formed a perfect square above the head of the table. Almost immediately the figure of Sirius Black came into focus as he was sitting behind a large desk that was situated in front of large windows that looked out over a beautifully landscaped garden. A few, Dumbledore and Hermione most notably, recognized the location and almost swallowed their tongues in shock at the Marauder's audacity.

_"My fellow wizards and witches," _He began in a monotone voice with a serious look on his face and his hands resting together on the desk in front of him._ "I address you today, not as a member of the magical world or even a misplaced resident of Azkaban governmental housing, but rather as a dead man with a whole lot of crap to give away."_ He continued solemnly but finished the last words while breaking into a grin.

"He never could keep a straight face for very long." Remus muttered to himself but his voice carried and those that knew him well nodded in agreement.

_"First off, To the Weasley family as a whole, I have made the arrangements to have you legally added to the Black family register and have you, Arthur, legally recognized as the Great-grandson of Phineas Nigellus Black, as is your right. Welcome to the family, cousin. Now, individually, I leave Ron Weasley five thousand galleons as well as the Quaffle that you will find in a black trunk in my bedroom closet. It was awarded to my great uncle Julius when he received the 'Most Valuable Player' award for the Chuddly Cannons in 1787, the last time the team won a national championship. That Quaffle is the one that was used in the final game of the tournament and you will find that it is autographed by the entire team."_ Sirius paused here and just seemed to look around for a few moments as if expecting an interruption. And he was right.

As soon as his explanation was finished a thump was heard as Ron passed out and fell to the floor with his chair over turning and joining him there. This time it wasn't only Malfoy that laughed but nearly everyone in the room. Ron's obsession with the worst Quiditch team in the league was very well known so naturally the fact that he was now the owner of a relic from the team's 'glory days' was obviously overwhelming for him. It took Mrs. Weasley three attempts to wake her son but even then he still looked a bit dazed.

Hermione and the others turned their attention back to the projection in time to see Sirius looking through the drawers of the desk he was sitting at, an action that caused Hermione to sputter at the blatant show of disrespect. Seeing that everyone appeared to be ready to continue, Gurak skipped the recording ahead to where Sirius got back down to the business at hand.

_"By now, I assume you have been able to either revive Ron or get him a change of robes, or both, so we shall proceed. Each of the remaining six Weasley children will also receive five thousand galleons with the exception of Percy Weasley. His five thousand will be frozen until such time that he recognizes his past errors and begins to use his intelligence for the good of the people as a whole rather than his own advancement and the consolidation of power of a corrupt Minister. I will not demand that he makes amends with his family because to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure how well that would go over, so the only stipulation is becoming a part of the solution rather than the problem._

_"And to round out the bunch of red heads, I leave fifty thousand galleons to Arthur and Molly Weasley as well as my utmost thanks for showing Harry what a real family should be like and making a place for him in yours. Molly, I know we have had our differences over the last few months in regards to Harry's safety but you must understand that the boy needs to get some enjoyment out of life just as much as we wish to keep him safe. I assure you that I have never thought of him as a younger version of his father and I wouldn't want him to be any different than he is right now. I know that you love him as if he were your own but if he can't have a little fun due to the threat Voldemort poses to him than there is nothing for him to live for. By all means, keep him safe, but allow him the space he needs to be happy."_

Mrs. Weasley tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape her as she remembered quite clearly the arguments she had with Sirius the summer before concerning his influence on Harry. She had never actually apologized to Sirius for the words she used and the longer he was gone she grew more afraid that she wouldn't be able to apologize to Harry either for saying the things she did while he was present. She never doubted that Sirius loved the boy but all to often it seemed to her, at least at the time, that he was trying to groom Harry to take his father's place as his best friend.

_"Next up, Hermione Granger. I leave you the Black family library with the exception of those books that will be mentioned later on. I only ask that you leave most of them where they are for the time being so that they may be useful to the current residents of my old home. You also receive five thousand galleons and my supreme thanks in keeping Harry alive as long as you have._

_"Moving on, Andi, if you are not there then I'm sure little Nymphadora is and she will convey the message. I have retracted your banishment from the Black family and left a selection of the family jewels for both you and Nymphy. If you don't like them then I encourage you to trade them for something cheap and insignificant and inform the portrait of my mother. I'm sure she will appreciate it as much as I would. I can imagine the look of constipation on her face now as she works herself up into one of her usual rants about mudbloods and blood traitors._

_"And now to my good buddy Moony. Remus, I know how much you despise anything that resembles charity but I've arranged for fifty thousand galleons to be deposited into your vault the moment this reading started so that you would have no way to refuse it. The goblins assure me that they will not allow it to be transferred back so you might as well not even try. I have a bunch of money and crap to give away and I won't take no for an answer. I also leave you every book in the Black library that concerns magical creatures, any copies are to be left with the main library in Hermione's possession. Whoever is overseeing this reading, please continue as instructed." _Everyone looked on in confusion as Gurak reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a thin wooden box that was about a foot long and had it passed down along the table to where Remus was sitting. When it reached him, Remus opened the box to find a single vial of a thick silvery substance that looked almost like unicorn blood. Due to the color he was understandably reluctant to touch it so he just waited for Sirius to continue

_"The potion you are undoubtedly looking at in confusion and probably a bit of fear is my ultimate gift to you, my friend. While there is no known cure for Lycanthropy, there are more ways to deal with it than just the Wolfsbane potion, which is by far the easiest and cheapest to brew."_ Hermione, who had learned a great deal about the Wolfsbane potion after learning that Remus was a werewolf in her third year gasped at Sirius' explanation. The potion was notoriously complicated with only a handful of potions masters in England were able to brew it and the ingredients were hard to come by so the idea that it was considered cheap and easy compared to others was almost unfathomable.

_"Every werewolf has natural shields that protect their minds for most of the month so learning the art of Occlumency would be a waste of time for most. But, with true Occlumency training to organize your mind as well, in conjunction with this potion will drastically change the very nature of your curse. For example, once you master Occlumency and take the potion you will actually be able to change form at will despite the position of the moon, much like an animagus transformation. Unfortunately you will still be forced to change during a full moon but you will keep your own mind and it will not be nearly as painful. Another bonus is that you will not feel quite so bad after the moon has set, just like a mild case of the flu if I understand it correctly._

_"Now, I'm quite sure that many of you are asking yourselves why I didn't bring this up before my death and why this potion is virtually unknown if it has such outstanding results. In fact, if even Albus knows of it I would be greatly surprised, so I will try to explain. As I already said, this potion is extremely difficult to brew. Snape, though I despise the greasy git, is the foremost potions master in Great Britain but this is way out of even his league. I had to go to an old friend of my family's in central Africa to find someone with enough skill to brew it. He is probably the best in his field and yet he was forced to 'act out' the instructions with common ingredients for several months straight before he would even consider trying to brew the real thing. One slight mistake could have meant disaster. As of right now, February 17 1996, the potion has been maturing for four month and still has a year before it reaches its full potency so I apologize for not mentioning it sooner but as of yet it is still useless for another year. Despite the complicated instructions it is also not an option to most because of the value and rarity of the ingredients puts it out of just about every werewolf's price range. The vial that you now hold, Remus, cost just over forty thousand galleons to brew, easily making it the most complicated and most expensive potion ever created._

_"I know perfectly well what you are thinking, Moony," _Sirius began again sadly_. "You are more than likely cursing my name for spending so much on you, no doubt thinking to yourself that you are not worth it. Well I would have spent ten times that amount if it meant that you didn't feel any pain for even one transformation. Well this will work for your entire life. I believe that the gold was well spent. You've been a brother to me since we first met in our first year and I will always think of you as such."_ The room was nearly quite for several minutes with only sounds being the soft sobs coming from Remus as he clutched the box tightly to his chest while he tried to get his emotions under control. Even the Malfoys and their lawyer were wise enough to keep quite instead of risking the wrath of the others present by making fun of the emotionally troubled werewolf. After nearly five minutes Remus calmed down and Gurak started the recording once again.

_"Finally, to my godson Harry, I leave everything else, including the Black ancestral home and the title of Lord Black for when you come of age. I also leave you with the defense spell books from the Black library, once again, any copies are to be left with Hermione, and also my personal possessions..."_ The rest of the recording was cut off as Gurak ended the spell work and placed the small metal bar back into his pocket.

"The rest of the recording is a personal message for Mr. Potter's ears only. Now, is there anything any of you would like to add before we get to the paper work?"

"Did he really break into the White House just to record his will?" Hermione spoke up immediately with a scandalized look on her face.

"Yes, he did. When I visited Washington shortly afterwards to extend my apologies to the President himself, he was most curious as to how Lord Black managed to bypass the wards, but as a whole, he found the situation creative and very amusing. Needless to say, his security detail did not. Now, does anyone else have anything to say?" Sirius' Lawyer, Mr. Tilson, explained with small grin.

"I do. I will not sit by and watch as my family's legacy is handed over to a bunch of mudbloods and blood traitors." Narcissa sneered as she stood up and glared at the others present.

"Excellent!" Mr. Tilson responded with enthusiasm. "Would you like to formally contest this Will?" The man's eagerness threw Narcissa off a bit and made her second guess herself but before she could respond Draco stood, obviously taking the man's enthusiasm to mean that he agreed with their position.

"The House of Malfoy formally contests the Last Will and Testament of Sirius Orion Black, on the grounds of the Pure-Blood Protection Act of 1647." Draco responded arrogantly. The signet ring that he wore on his left hand pulsed slightly, recognizing the demand for what it truly was. A magically binding contract to abide by any decision that was reached. When Lucius was carted off to Azkaban he really should have chosen someone with at least half a brain to make decisions regarding the family until he returned. Narcissa was glaring at her son in rage but the damage was already done judging by the look of amusement on Tilson's face as he pulled out a thick file folder and began flipping through it.

"Before Lord Black's death," Tilson began as he searched for what he was looking for. "He left explicit instructions should his will be contested and the required clauses come into effect within the correct timeframe. Ah, and here we are." He said happily as he removed several pieces of thick parchment before looking back to Draco and Narcissa in triumph. "Over the last one hundred and fifty years the Malfoy family has consistently brought their own little empire of businesses and investments to the brink of ruin. The only thing that has kept the family afloat were the many marriage contracts and monetary 'gifts' from the Black family. I'm sure Narcissa will now recognize this clause from her own marriage contract,

"Should the Malfoy family be without a legitimate head, all properties, heirlooms, monies and titles will be forfeited to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black in repayment for..."

"As you can see quite clearly, there is no head of the Malfoy family at this time. Lucius is a convicted Death Eater, and has thus forfeited his title and young Draco will be unable to claim it until June fifth of next year, his seventeenth birthday. It is with no small sense of satisfaction, that I carry out Lord Black's orders and cancel all contracts with the Malfoy family and call in all debts." He said with a smile as he handed the orders, signed by Sirius, to Gurak to verify the signature and magical seal. "This does, of course, include marriage contracts as well, Ms. Black," He chuckled at the glare Narcissa sent him and handed Gurak yet another parchment. "This is an order expelling both Narcissa and her now illegitimate son Draco from House Black, effective immediately."

"YOU CAN"T DO THIS! THAT MUTT WAS AN ESCAPED CONVICT, HE HAD NO LEGAL RIGHT TO ISSUE THOSE ORDERS AND THE BLACK FAMILY HAS BEEN WITHOUT A HEAD FOR NEARLY FIFTEEN YEARS! POTTER ISN'T EVEN OF AGE, HE'S PROBABLY DEAD LIKE HIS MUDBLOOD MOTHER." Narcissa shrieked in rage as Draco just stood there stupidly as the blood rushed from his face while he watched the Malfoy signet ring slowly disintegrate off of his finger.

"On the contrary, Ms. Black, he had every right. He was never given a trial and was therefore never convicted of a crime, so he retained his title of Lord Black and his rightful position as head of the family. Even if this were not the case, it would change nothing. This marriage contract requires nothing of House Black, outside of the marriage itself and the monetary gifts specified, so your argument about my client's rights are largely irrelevant. The Malfoy family is without a head, and therefore the estate now belongs to House Black regardless of who holds the hereditary titles or if there is even a specified head at the moment. As for Mr. Potter's status, that is easily resolved. Could one of you retrieve the Potter family scrolls?" Tilson asked happily as he turned to one of the goblins standing beside the door. The guard growled deeply before storming out of the room. He clearly did not like being ordered about by humans, even if it was phrased politely. "Of course, if Mr. Potter is indeed deceased as you claim..."

"Then I am the only choice." Draco finally spoke up with a superior smirk causing everyone, including his mother and lawyer, to look at him as if he were a complete idiot.

"If you pure-bloods truly are the best the magical world has to offer, I truly pity our future. Just how simple are you, Mr. Malfoy? What have I said that gave you that ridiculous notion. Your mother's marriage contract has been canceled, making you illegitimate in the eyes of the law, disqualifying you from inheriting a family title. You were also banished from the Black family, once again, disqualifying you from inheriting a family title. Other than Mr. Potter, as named in Lord Black's will, only two others now qualify. Ted Tonks, since his wife was welcomed back into the family and is therefore a Black through marriage. As well as Arthur Weasley, whose relation to the Black family has been reaffirmed." The Malfoys and their lawyer looked absolutely appalled at the very idea of a muggle-born inheriting the title of an ancient pure-blood family but Lestrange's representative seemed to think it was the funniest thing he had heard all day, with the exception of Draco unintentionally losing the Malfoy estate with a single demand. He couldn't wait to see the look on the Dark Lord's face when he discovers that Draco and Narcissa had lost him a much needed source of funding.

It was only minutes later that the guard returned with another smartly dressed goblin carrying a large dusty scroll. He looked around at all those present with barely concealed contempt before he locked eyes with Belar. He almost tripped as he stopped mid step before clumsily bowing low while trying not to drop the heavy scroll. Belar nodded in return as the young goblin stood straight once more as he quickly placed the scroll on the table in front of Gurak before leaving the room at a near run. Gurak and Belar watched him leave with amusement as everyone else looked between the two with renewed confusion and curiosity. Gurak ignored them all as he began unrolling the parchment, examining it so closely that his long nose was brushing across it quite frequently as he searched for the relevant entries, which didn't take long to find.

"Yes, well, I can assure you, Ms. Black, that Mr. Potter is indeed very much alive. That is all, I'm sure you remember the way out." Draco's face was as red as a blood blister but any rant he was working himself up for was cut off as his lawyer physically pulled him from the room with his mother and Lestrange's attorney close behind. Once the room was free of the Death Eater sycophants and the room resealed, the old goblin turned his attention back to Belar.

"Are Potter's acquaintances, here, aware of the present situation?"

"They are aware of only the absolute basics, but they do not know much else and I believe that it would be prudent to keep it that way for the time being."

"As you wish. Now, I said, Mr. Potter is very much alive, however, his magical signature is almost nonexistent. He must be an awful long way from home to stretch the magic so close to the breaking point. Do we have Lord UL to thank for this, interesting development?" Gurak asked as he pointedly ignored the others present.

"No, my father has other, more precarious, matters that he must attend to. The task has fallen to Aldur to guide him."

"A wise choice. If my information is up to date, it has, in fact, been a great many years since Lord Aldur took on a new apprentice. It might just be worth the aggravation of dealing with humans to observe how far Mr. Potter has progressed upon his return." The old goblin finished thoughtfully before snapping his attention back to the situation at hand. "My Lord, I'm sure you have more pressing matters to attend to, so I will not..." He was immediately cut off as Fawkes entered the room in a burst of crimson fire. No one was actually startled by the sudden appearance, as they were accustomed to such things, but rather they were surprised, and more than a little confused, that Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl, seemed to have hitched a ride by biting into his left leg. The Phoenix began flying around the room and squawking in a most undignified manner until the smaller bird let go. Everyone present, goblins included, were looking at Professor Dumbledore's companion in confusion until he landed on said wizard's shoulder and seemed to huff in annoyance. Dumbledore looked into Fawkes' eyes and seemed to be conversing with him on some greater level than mere words. After a few brief moments, the old man chuckled slightly before returning his attention to all those that were looking at him for an explanation.

"It would seem that Hedwig was quite determined to force Fawkes to take her to Harry. Apparently she wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Then why did he bring her here?" Ron asked in confusion. "He certainly isn't at Gringotts, um, is he?"

"No, he isn't. And Fawkes can't find him, but he could sense someone who could." He finished as he turned to look at Belar, who was looking intently at the owl that was now perched on his right shoulder, staring at him defiantly. Almost daring him to leave without her.

"There is much power in this little bird. Strange that I could not sense her before." They all heard him mutter to himself as he scrutinized the owl closely. "I shall deliver thee unto the Strength of the God's. Belhaldar shall have much need of companions such as thou." Once again, everyone was looking at those sitting around them in almost dumbstruck confusion. They couldn't make heads or tails of the strange formality and highly cryptic form of address the man used. Hedwig hooted firmly before Belar rose from his chair and after a final goodbye to Gurak, he and Hedwig seemed to just fade away rapidly, causing just about everyone to gasp in shock. No one had ever heard of a transportation spell with such effects before not to mention that the wards surrounding Gringotts were stronger than those of Hogwarts, supposedly making such an exit impossible. Dumbledore tried his hardest to get some answers from Gurak but all he accomplished was to annoy the goblin who instructed the guards to 'escort' them out of the building.

"It just doesn't make any sense!" Hermione nearly shouted in frustration when they returned to Grimmauld Place. She and her parents were due to leave for their vacation to southern Spain the next day and the lack of information about Harry was driving her absolutely mad. She had grown accustomed to being able to find the answers she sought but in this situation she was at a loss. Of everyone present, only Albus and Remus truly knew what was bothering her beyond her concern for Harry considering they were experiencing similar problems but Albus had a century and a half's experience keeping control when the pressure became the roughest and Remus had always been the mild mannered type that didn't much care to share his feelings with many others.

"What's that, dear?" Hermione's mother asked as she and her father walked out of the sitting room where they had been waiting for the others to return.

"That strange Belar person showed up at Sirius's will reading, claiming to be acting on Harry's behalf."

"And?" Her father asked in confusion. They clearly remembered the strange man but didn't understand why their daughter was so upset by his reappearance while everyone else seemed relatively calm.

"Well how do we know that he, and this so called brother of his, actually have Harry's best interests in mind? He is clearly quite powerful, probably even more powerful than the Headmaster, yet he doesn't seem to be too interested in the fight with You-Know-Who so how can we be sure what his motives are? For all we know he could be holding Harry prisoner or he could even be dead."

"Ms. Granger, that is enough! Get control over yourself, girl!" Professor McGonagall snapped in irritation as Hermione's voice was getting louder and more shrill with each passing word.

"Well, she does have a point, Professor. We don't know anything about this man, or about where Harry is and what he is doing for that matter. The first time he showed up, he said that Harry had already been gone for three years when he had disappeared not even twelve hours before. If that is true than he has now been gone for, um, for..." Ron tried to think but unfortunately the Wizarding World was so ignorant that it didn't consider math, or many other 'normal' subjects, a proper course of impressionable young witches and wizards to study. Why bother when with a wave of your wand you can solve any simple equation.

"Ninety six years!" Remus finished for him while many were looking at the young redhead strangely. They were clearly surprised that the usually hot tempered Weasley could be so calm while bringing up a very good point. "But if you will remember correctly, he said that time advances differently in different parts of the Universe and that Harry left right after this world moved into an area where time moved slower than it does where he is."

"That's what I just said."

"But what your failing to consider is that we have no idea how the flow of time in different parts of the Universe works. For all we know, this planet, or the planet Harry is on could have moved into another, maybe even several different, um, 'areas' since then. Yes, he could have been gone ninety six years, but it is also entirely possible, though probably unlikely, that since we were given this information only a couple of days have passed for him. My point is that we have absolutely no idea how any of this works and no way of finding out, so worrying about how old he is isn't going to do us any good. As for Belar's motives, that is even harder to guess."

"Well despite what many of you may think, I couldn't think he would mean to harm Harry. If that were the case, why would he approach us in the first place just to tell us that Harry is alright?" Tonks spoke up for the first time since they left the house that morning.

"He could have been trying to get an idea of how strong the Order is?" Hermione half asked and half stated as if it were the most obvious answer.

"Really, and why would he need to do that if he is not concerned with the war with Voldemort, as you said? This man isn't 'probably' more powerful than Albus, he is certainly a great deal more powerful. And now we know of at least two others, his brother Lord Aldur and their father, Lord UL. If those two are anywhere near as powerful as he is then they would have no reason to learn of our capabilities, at our best we would be a minor inconvenience if they were to move against us. So for the time being let's just assume that everything he told us was true until we receive evidence to the contrary."

"Ms. Tonks is correct," Albus sighed. "William, do you know anything about this man and his motives?" He asked, clearly remembering Bill's reaction when he first appeared in the conference room.

"I don't know much at all. Before today I've seen him a total of three times over the five years I worked in Egypt. Each time he was visiting the Gringotts branch office in Cairo and was treated with as much respect as he was today. I've never spoken to him personally but I did overhear a few conversations just in passing and was able to learn very little from the more friendly goblins I worked with. I noticed most of you grew very confused when he began speaking to Hedwig in a very formal dialect. From what I understand, this is his usual manner of speech, even when speaking Gobbledegook, he is very formal, sounding almost Shakespearian. I can only assume that he spoke normal English today as a courtesy, so that all present would easily understand him."

"So, its not just the goblins here in England, but all goblins. I wonder what service he preformed for them that earned such respect." Albus thought out loud.

"I don't think it was any service, Albus. About four years ago, in one of our digs, I discovered an ancient staff, made out of some dark wood that we were never able to identify. It was hard as steel and inlaid with gold and was topped with the largest blood crystal I had ever seen. Myself and two others brought it to the bank where we continued running tests on it. Unfortunately news of our find got out, and a coven of Egyptian Vampires that had apparently been searching for the staff for centuries attacked the bank in an effort to retrieve it. This was the first time I saw him. He had just arrived and was standing in the back of the lobby carrying out a friendly conversation with the bank manager. When the vampires arrived he simply walked outside calmly, apparently taking no interest in what was going on around him. We eventually fought them back but my two colleagues and a great many goblins were killed. Two hours later, he returned and resumed his conversation with the manager as if nothing had happened. Naturally I was a bit upset at the time and the way he calmly left when the attack began I assumed he may have known about it before hand." Bill explained before cringing slightly.

"What happened?" Molly demanded. Bill had told them of the attack as soon as he could to assure his parents that he was alright but he had downplayed it significantly.

"I made the mistake of voicing my suspicions. The goblins I was speaking to went into a rage and nearly ordered my execution for it. Later on, one of the few goblins that I would actually call friends explained to me that Belar is a great friend to them but he will not interfere in their affairs one way or another. He may not help them while they are at their weakest but he won't expect anything from them when they are at their strongest either. That alone commands respect in their eyes. But there is also something much greater than that but I have never been able to find out what it is."

"Wait a minute! He is present when vampires attack them and he leaves them to be slaughtered, and they respect him for it?" Ginny asked in confusion.

"You have to understand the goblin mind, Ms. Weasley. Though in recent centuries they have redirected their pursuits to finance, they are still very cold and capable warriors, and very proud. They would never ask a wizard for aid if it were not the most dire of circumstance. I assume they did not object to your brother's involvement because he was in their employ and was protecting his own interests as well."

"You're correct Headmaster, but that is not the reason for their respect of him. Apparently it's not just the goblins that he does not interfere with, but everyone. He sets himself apart from the rest of the world, never choosing sides in any conflict, though he does occasionally try to 'guide' people. Now that I know that he is more than likely from another world, it actually makes a great deal of sense. If he started interfering in another's affairs, it would be like me going over to the Granger's home while they were at work, letting myself in and helping myself to something to eat. Once they got home I would start laying down some new rules for them to follow so that their lives and cultures resembled mine more closely."

"So, you're saying that he doesn't interfere because he's not originally from this planet so he has no right deciding who is right or wrong or dictating how we should live our lives? That actually makes a lot of sense." Ron nodded in understanding, not knowing just how wrong Bill's theories were off. Granted, they had no idea who Belar truly was, much less what he was, but they couldn't very well figure out his motivations without knowing anything about him.

"I still can not bring myself to believe much of this. The idea that Harry is actually on another world seems to ridiculous, and that there are other people on that world training him." Mundungus Fletcher spoke up from where he was sitting against the wall, not far from where Snape was leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen.

"That's because you are to simple minded, Fletcher!" Snape sneered at the old thief. "The Universe is so vast that it could be called infinite. Only arrogance could bring someone to conclude that this planet is the only one capable of sustaining life." Many looked at the greasy potions master in surprise. They certainly didn't expect to hear something so profound from the man that seems to prefer snide comments and petty insults.

XXX

Draco looked down on the lifeless bodies of his mother and lawyer in shock for several moments until he saw a familiar flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He had absolutely no time to react before the Cruciatus curse slammed into the side of his head, sending him tumbling to the ground as wave after wave of unfathomable pain coursed through his veins like liquid fire. As his body thrashed about on the ground of the dimly lit chamber only one thought was able to push its way out of the pain induced fog. And that was of his disbelief that everything that seemed to be going so perfectly could suddenly go so very wrong.

This was the first Death Eater meeting that he was allowed to attend and it was certainly the first time he had laid eyes on the snake-like face of his precious Dark Lord. Just a couple of hours ago, he was all set to take control of the Black Family when it was suddenly pulled out from under him. This was supposed to be a time were he could strut in to his Lord's chambers and inform him of his success but instead he had to report his failure as well as his loss of the Malfoy estate. This certainly hit Draco hard, as he had absolutely no experience with anything other than his life of privilege.

However, it seem that Voldemort was taking the loss a great deal harder that the young Malfoy heir. He had needed the gold in the Black Family vaults in order to expand and finance his war as well as purchase some of the more 'exotic' components for his latest ritual. He was pretty sure he could still make it without that inheritance, the Malfoy fortune, though considerably less than that of the Blacks, was an entirely different story. Lucius Malfoy was the wealthiest of his followers and the loss of an important source of funds was going to hurt him in the long run if he didn't find something to cover the difference soon.

"Stand up, young Malfoy!" The Dark Lord hissed in a very low and dangerous tone after lifting his Cruciatus curse after almost three full minutes. It took Draco a bit of time to get to his feet and even then he was swaying back and forth, only fear of his master kept him on his feet.

"You are indeed fortunate that I still have need for you. If this was not the case, you would be dead, just like that whore you call a mother. But don't think for one moment that this is an act of mercy, it is merely a temporary reprieve. How long it lasts is entirely up to you, judging by how well you perform. Do you understand?"

"Yes, My Lord!" The young man replied, his voice quiet and scratchy as his throat had nearly been rubbed raw by all his screaming.

"Good, now leave me!" As commanded, the Death Eater filed out of the room, leaving Lord Voldemort alone with his thoughts. Once everyone else was gone, a lone figure stepped out of the shadows behind the throne that Voldemort sat upon.

"What do you think, Rosier?" The Dark Lord asked without looking at the man, in a tone that clearly said that he didn't really care but was curious none the less.

"They are weak, and have no backbone. Once that old fool Dumbledore is taken care of it will be much simpler to just kill them all and start over." He responded as he lowered his hood. He was between sixty five and seventy five years old, clean shaven and had dark graying hair. His most noticeable attribute however was his eyes. They held nothing but hatred and a love of inflicting pain.

"Indeed. That is an option I have given much thought to as of late. It would appear that they simply do not make men like us anymore and those few that have come in recent years have been killed by the Aurors, such as your son."

"Evan had a great deal of potential, there is no doubt about that. He was strong, resourceful and cold. Unfortunately he never learned that sometimes it is prudent to withdraw from a fight." Voldemort just nodded at this before changing the subject.

"So, you wish to take your place in my circle once again?"

"I fought at your side for twenty five years, Tom, now that you have returned I shall fight along side you once more." Rosier smirked viciously. Ignoring the use of his proper name, Voldemort smirked back. His most powerful ally had returned to him which more than made up for the loss of Bellatrix and Severus. Charles Rosier had been at his side since he originally formed the Knights of Walpurgis, which later became the Death Eaters, in the 1950's. They were the closest things to a friends that either had ever had, which isn't really saying much since neither had ever really desired such relationships, even when they were young.

Of all his Death Eaters, Charles Rosier was the only one left unmarked, for the simple fact that Voldemort didn't think of him as just another follower. He was a kindred spirit. Neither truly believed in the blood purity issue, for their own reasons, they simply had the unquenchable desire to dominate. And they both did it exceedingly well, with the ideal combination of both intellectual prowess and magical power to create scenarios of absolute terror. While Tom Riddle was perhaps one of the most intelligent and powerful students to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts, it was Rosier's plans and ideas that made the magical world terrified to even speak his name. And now that he had returned...

"As long as you're here, I have a rather delicate job that needs to be done."

"And that would be?" Rosier asked as he took a long drink out of his hip flask. The only thing that betrayed any emotion was a slight twitch in his eyes, but it was something Voldemort had recognized easily and he knew what the man was thinking. He was eager.

"I must find out all that I can about this, Belar. Who he is, where he comes from and most importantly, if he truly is in contact with Potter. I need to know if that little shit is still around or if this man is just using his disappearance for his own advantage. Start with the goblins, they seem to have a friendly..."

"That isn't a good idea." Rosier spoke up calmly. "At the moment our forces are disorganized, weak and inexperienced, for the time being we can not afford to put a highly trained goblin army on our list of foes. For the time being, their neutrality serves our short term goals by keeping our economic options open. I'll start with Dumbledore's Order, they have apparently at least met the man before. Besides, I've got an old score to settle." Seeing the look in the other man's eyes, Voldemort smirked as he envisioned all sorts of interesting scenarios his old colleague had in store for Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

XXX

"Where did this beautiful bird come from?" Polgara asked as she looked at the owl perched proudly by the window. When flying, the snowy owl was by far her favorite form, as was her mother's, so naturally she had a great deal of affection for them.

"Belar sent her." Belgarath answered simply, trying his best to ignore Hedwig and the painful memories her appearance brought up. "She is apparently one of Belhaldar's old companions and seems to have bullied Belar into bringing her here." Polgara twitched a bit at the name but her father didn't know if it was the man himself or the added _Bel_ that caused such distaste. Probably a combination of the two. The fact that he was now a recognized Disciple of Aldur had caused her a great deal of anger.

"Well, we'll just see about that." She said simply as she moved towards the bird. She had never met a bird that she couldn't win over and she was certain that this one would be a great deal happier with her. Unfortunately, once she was close enough Hedwig leaned forward and gave her a sharp bit on her outstretched hand causing her to yelp in shock and pain.

"I probably should have warned you that she is clearly extremely intelligent and fiercely loyal. It is entirely possible that as soon as I mentioned Belhaldar's name she was able to determine your feelings for him and maybe even your intentions to sway her." The old man chuckled slightly, ignoring the poisonous glare Polgara was sending him.

"Well why is she here?" Polgara clearly did not like being rejected for such a buffoon and now that she knew where the bird's loyalties were she had no problem placing the dislike she held for Harry with his owl as well. Hedwig met her gaze and didn't seem the least bit concerned as she hooted sharply in an almost challenging manner.

"Apparently she can usually find him wherever he is, but being on a new world has thrown her off a bit. Beldin is leaving for Mallorea tomorrow so he is going to guide her to Melcena."

XXX

After spending two years in the Vale, teaching Polgara everything she needed to know concerning the mind arts, Harry was more than a little relieved to return to Mallorea once again. On more than one occasion, Polgara had tried her hardest to make Harry's task as difficult as possible but she always came out second best in the resulting altercations. Once she mastered whatever technique she had been studying at the time she immediately went on the attack in an obvious attempt at revenge for all he had put her through during her training. While it was true that he had been exceptionally harsh, maybe even cruel at times, there was always a very good reason for it. When conditioning someone to withstand a great deal of emotional, mental and physical pain, you can hardly treat them with kid gloves. A fact that Polgara always refused to consider. In her mind, Harry was simply 'torturing' her for his own amusement, enjoying it as every day she was pushed beyond exhaustion where she actually had to be carried to her bed every night. What she couldn't deny, however, was that as a result of the brutal pace Harry had set, she had learned more in those two years than she did in the six years before that.

The biggest problem he had to overcome, beside the fact that it was him teaching her, was as a direct result of Belgarath leaving her to study what she wanted, when she wanted. She had grown so used to reading up on various subjects and practicing them when she felt like it that the process of an actual learning environment was alien to her. It caused him no end of headaches as he had to constantly refuse to allow her to try the practical applications until she learned all the theory. The mind was an incredibly fragile thing and even a simple mistake could have dire consequences later, a lesson she learned the hard way when she tried to build the shields around her mind one morning before Harry arrived. Her shields were actually quite strong. Unfortunately she forgot to create an access for herself and essentially locked herself into her own mind with no way to get out or even a way to view what was already inside. She was essentially locked into an endless expanse of perpetual darkness. She was catatonic when he arrived and Belgarath tried to wake her.

She had been locked in darkness for what felt like an infinite amount of time, which had in fact been a little more than an hour, when Harry suddenly appeared in front of her. Though she was certain she would be able to hide it well, the only thing that kept her from secretly being relieved by his appearance was the look of utter fury on his face. He just stood there staring, not blinking or moving a muscle, for several minutes and with each passing moment her nervousness was growing until it nearly reached the point of terror. Finally he spoke, one sentence, though it certainly didn't give her any comfort.

_"Perhaps you will need a little while longer before you finally understand that my instructions are not given without reason!"_ He had stated coldly before vanishing, once more leaving her to the darkness. It was without a doubt the most terrifying time of her life, even more so than when her connection with Beldaran had been blocked. Even that significant sense of comfort was now unavailable to her. In her haste to prove that she was just as good, if not better, than Harry, she had ignored other unknown aspects that could be involved and rushed to accomplish something she obviously wasn't ready for. It never occurred to her that she would need to make adjustments to accommodate such things as her senses and her bond with her sister. The only thing that gave her comfort was that despite her panic, and mind crying out to the contrary, she knew that Beldaran was in fact alright. But everything else was an absolute nightmare. She could not feel her body, she could not smell or taste the air. She couldn't see or hear, leaving her to believe that Harry must know a way to get around this disturbing aspect. With no senses to guide her, keeping track of time would be impossible for even the most calm of individuals, which she certainly wasn't at the moment.

Harry had left her in her catatonic state for the rest of the day, finally bringing down her shields just after night fall. Several times during the day he needed Beldin to help restrain Belgarath, to prevent him from either attacking Harry or attempting to help Polgara. While he was certainly no fan of Harry's methods, at least while it was Polgara that he was teaching, Beldin recognized that such steps, while certainly cruel, were the best way to get her to listen.

When her eyes snapped open, she gave out a loud cry before leaning over the side of her bed and emptying the contents of her stomach onto the floor. She had been nearly inconsolable for the rest of the night but the next morning she was back to her usual cold self though the loathing in her eyes grew in volume. Her hatred for him didn't bother him in the least, the only thing he cared about was the fact that that was the last time she ever tried to go against his instructions. That isn't to say that there were no more problems, just that he no longer had to worry that she would do anything _too_ stupid without his supervision.

Harry shook off these thoughts as the carriage that picked him up at the docks pulled up to his manor on the Melcena island of Anden. It was still strange to him that he now owned a rather large estate but he was certain that it would come in very useful in the future. He had seen way to much over the last several years to believe that his 'inheritance' was mere coincidence.

As he stepped out of the carriage he took a long slow look around. gazing past the perfectly manicured gardens he could see the City of Anden, the islands only settlement in the distance with several other manors dotting the rolling hills of an open grassland. After seeing much of this world, when he first arrived to the islands he was greatly surprised to see that the vast majority of the land in Melcena was going to waste. With as fertile as the soil is he had figured there would be a great number of farms, but he was wrong. The people of Melcena have a great love for beauty, whether it is art, music, literature, breeding horses or architecture, and will not tolerate anything that disturbs that image. Not to mention the fact that they saw no point in using their own land to grow crops when they would end up shipping most of it to the mainland to be sold. Any food and supplies they required are grown or gathered in various parts of Mallorea before being shipped to them. This had the added bonus of giving them no reason to build 'unsightly' warehouses, which also remain on the mainland. The merchants of Melcena are able to make a great deal of money by keeping their farms and using grazing pastures outside of the islands since it saves a lot of time preparing their caravans to ship their goods to other markets. Otherwise they would have to waste money to hire ships as well and the added delay of even a few days could ruin any crop they had produced before they reached their destination. Due to the fact that the Melcena Consortium controlled Mallorea's economy, he was actually greatly surprised that they didn't seem to share the same sense of greed that the Tolnedrans were so famous for. They certainly enjoyed making money, of course, but it didn't dominate their society.

Before Torak cracked the world, there were a great many other islands that made up the Mecene Empire but the majority sank into the sea when the Dragon God decided to 'remodel'. As a result the four remaining islands were vastly over populated so they were forced to expand into the mainland. The expansion was relatively peaceful since they were able to 'convince' the rulers of the nearby kingdoms that being included in the empire would be in their best interests. Unfortunately, like every other territory or tribe on the continent, the empire was soon swallowed up by the rest of Mallorea as the Grolims sought to bring everyone under Torak's rule. For the most part they have been relatively loyal, not particularly wanting to go to war with a god, though they have never been strictly pious when it came to religious observations.

"My Lord, welcome back!" Harry looked up sharply and cursed himself for letting his mind wander as it did. It could have just as easily have been someone intent on killing him that had approached rather than his own personal secretary.

"Mako." Harry greeted with a slight nod before entering the large oak doors with his employee at his side. Mako was a man in his late thirties with slightly graying hair and a short, well trimmed beard. He was about average height with lean well toned muscles that spoke of a great deal of speed rather than power on a battlefield. His most dominating feature, however, was his eyes. They didn't miss anything, ever. Whether it was a violent situation in the streets or a clause in a contract that the other parties hoped would be over looked. Nothing escaped his notice. Unfortunately, what he lacked was experience with such matters, although he was learning very quickly. If he made a mistake, or someone managed to pull the wool over his eyes, that mistake would never happen again and that certain someone had just lost the advantage of a reliable tactic because he would certainly remember it and come up with half a dozen ways to counter it before the week was out. Once Harry had taken control of Anden and named Mako his chief adviser, he had been mobbed with correspondence from other Melcena and Mallorean nobleman, demanding information about his new employer, some even going so far as to demand that he take the opportunity to kill him. Many of these noblemen were worried about how any financial agreements would be honored with a new lord that had absolutely no reason or obligation to fulfill but instead of talking things over with Harry like gentlemen, they chose to resort to bribery, threats and blackmail. Luckily, Mako turned out to be extremely loyal.

"Has the Consortium given you any trouble?" Harry asked as he walked across the black marble entrance hall, heading towards the basement stairs where he fully intended to make good use of the baths before changing out of his traveling cloths.

"Not as much as one would expect. Which ever one of us sits in on the meetings in your place is usually treated with contempt by many of the more powerful members, led by Duke Reignhart, but none have the courage to publicly stand against you. Everyone on these islands, rich or poor, knows that it is you alone that is keeping the Grolims from becoming a permanent fixture in our lives once more. Reignhart won't make himself a target for every citizen's hatred by attempting to chase away their only defense. This, however, brings me to a far more pressing matter. In the last year, three shipments of uncut gems have been robbed as our caravans crossed Gandahar's northern border into Darshiva."

"Aren't those caravans supposed to be guarded?" Harry snarled. He didn't care much about the money but it did seem to be a matter of pride. Someone got it into their head to steal from him and so far they had been pretty successful at it.

"Yes, they are, My Lord. Unfortunately, the guards never left with the wagons. The soldiers are supplied by the rulers of the petty kingdoms where our interests lie. Rulers are notoriously difficult to negotiate with and despise being ordered about. Do to the fact that they already must take orders from the emperor in Mal Zeth, they choose to take their frustrations out on those below them. Putting that frustration to work against the merchants from Malcene and from the Ancient Mallorean Empire helps them relieve a bit of stress as well as make a handsome profit. Since Melcena no longer has any direct control over these kingdoms we are legally prohibited from sending in our own troops to protect our investments. To do so would quickly bring the Emperor's forces down upon us, and that is one fight that we would not be able to win."

"So, you think the aristocracy is behind it?"

"Not necessarily! It is quite possible that a few noblemen are having their guards attack these caravans for their own profit and it is equally likely that the soldiers paid to guard the shipments are the ones to blame. However, I think that the evidence points primarily in the direction of incompetence. Soldiers get notoriously lazy when there are no authority figures around to give them orders and if you ignore the humidity, many of them have the perfect situation at hand. The unfavorable conditions in the jungles of Gandahar make it extremely unlikely that any would decide to just show up to see how everything is running and to report any incompetent management or theft from the mines. The plane and simple fact is that these soldiers didn't do their jobs simply because they didn't want to. Under normal circumstances, just the fact that you are their ultimate superior would be enough to keep them in line, but as I said, soldiers get lazy when there is no authority around, and you have been gone for quite some time."

"Right, well I'll try to think of something."

"If you don't mind, My Lord, I believe I have already found a solution." Harry sighed and stopped in mid-step as he turned back to his adviser, prolonging his bath just a bit longer than he had hoped. "Our problem stems from relying on soldiers that have absolutely no reason to be loyal and whose skill and experience have been proven to be inadequate in the past. What I suggest, is that we get rid of these loose ends and use men that are much better trained in such situations and whose loyalty is without question."

"And who might that be?"

"Mercenaries, My Lord. There are a great many in just about every corner of the world and many are just sitting around, waiting for a job to come along. They certainly have the skills needed and are loyal to whoever pays them."

"Yeah, until someone offers them a higher price." Harry put in as he looked at the older man as if he were a lunatic for even suggesting such a thing.

"Yes, that is always a possibility but you are forgetting one vital factor. If they do indeed take a better offer, they will in fact become ostracized from their own little 'community'. Let's say, for example, that you felt the need to higher a bodyguard and one of your enemies tried to get close to you but couldn't. As a back up, he approaches your guard and offers him a handsome sum to kill you. After the job is done what do you think would happen? While it is true, the man was paid generously, but it certainly wouldn't get him through the rest of his life. He would have to go back to work. Unfortunately for him, everyone knew what he did. No one would higher him because they knew they couldn't trust him, and rightfully so. He gave up a pretty easy and comfortable job for a simple bag full of gold and now he was in a position where it would be next to impossible for him to find legitimate work."

"Alright, what's your point?" He was really getting tired of people telling him stories to get the point across like he was some five year old with no way to comprehend what was going on in the world around him.

"My point is this, while there are some that are to impulsive to be trust worthy, the majority of mercenaries recognize that it would be far more profitable for them if they go about they're jobs in a relatively honest manner. People that are satisfied with there work tend to recommend their services to others." Harry stood there thinking it over for several minutes and had to admit that it was at least a fairly good idea. He didn't really have much to lose since his shipments were already being hijacked and something had to be done to fix the situation as soon as possible.

"Very well, lets see how this works out. See about gathering together, probably, thirty men or so to start with and have them here within the next week. I don't really care if they are working for someone else at this time or not, if they're any good make sure they're here."

Precisely one week later Harry walked into his office just as the sun was rising in the east to find thirty five battle hardened individuals staring back at him, some even sneering. He could tell right away that most of them had absolutely no intention of working for him, they were merely here as a courtesy. Harry fixed a look of cold determination on his face as he made his way to his desk in quick powerful strides. He didn't know why but he wanted this meeting over with as soon as possible. He had the strange feeling that something important was going to happen and he seriously doubted that it had anything to do with his finances or the problems involved.

Just as he sat down behind his desk, his premonition was confirmed when his office door was almost blown open, causing the assembled group of warriors to draw their weapons and assume various dueling stances in many different styles. Harry, for his part stayed seated as he suspected he knew who was about to enter the room and the very idea brought a wide grin to his face which grew even wider when the tall, dark purple robed figure with a highly polished steel mask on stepped through the doorway and surveyed his surroundings, taking no interest in the thirty five armed men standing not to far away.

"Torak, old boy!" Harry greeted happily as he stood, much like they were old friends that hadn't seen each other in a very long while. Hearing the name of a god and feeling the power radiating off of the being nearly sent a few of the watching men in to shock and the blood seemed to drain from their faces at a record pace.

"Thou wouldst do well to hold thy tongue, Belhaldar, while in the presence of thy betters or thou shall know pain greater than has ever been seen in this universe." The Dragon God threatened as his mask contorted with fury. It was actually kind of creepy to see facial expressions and emotions playing out on an inanimate object.

"I don't think so." Harry laughed, causing his 'guests' to look at him as if he were insane. He was goading a GOD for crying out loud. He certainly had to be mentally unstable. "For the time being, at least, I am beyond your power. We both know this to be true, if it weren't, then you would have killed me yourself already, instead of relying on assassins for the past three years. Oh yes, I must congratulate you on that last fellow, he certainly showed a great deal of skill with a sword. To bad that skill didn't extend to poisons. Poor bastard died very slowly and very painfully. One shouldn't really handle items they know nothing about, wouldn't you agree?" He continued on in a conversational tone. He was a little disappointed however when Torak showed no more signs of anger, in fact, he was merely looking at Harry with a slightly puzzled expression.

"I sense no fear in you!" Torak stated after a few short moments, causing Harry to look momentarily surprised.

"Of course not, fear is nothing more than a twisted form of respect. Respect for one's power, skills or motivations. I have absolutely no fear of you because I have no respect for you. While it is true that you are a god, and that alone commands respect from most, it is not enough for me. Despite what you, and many of the other gods would want us 'mere mortals' to believe, you are not all knowing and you are not all powerful. That was proven conclusively the day my master's orb struck back at you and I look forward to the day when I look down on your corpse after it strikes you down for good." Harry promised as he glared at his guest with an extreme hatred burning in his eyes. This was the being that drove his followers to slaughter their own people and expect them to feel _honored_ that they were chosen for such sacrifices. Though he was extremely powerful, Torak chose to use that power for his own selfish gains. As such he has earned nothing but hatred and contempt from Harry. Since he didn't have the power to harm Torak directly, he had to attack him through those that serve him. Judging by the resent attempts on his life and the fact that the god himself was now standing in his office, it would certainly seem that his ambushes were having the desired effect.

Torak, himself, seemed to be cycling through several different emotions. The most obvious were definitely rage, no doubt for being talked to in such a manner while his powers were being 'restrained'. In Torak's mind, he should be the ultimate power in the universe so the fact that there were a pair of 'consciousnesses' that had the ability to influence his actions were intolerable. The only bright point to this in his mind was that the manifestation of this 'dark prophecy' had chosen him as it's champion and should he defeat Iron-Grip's heir, he will become the one and only god to dominate the universe.

However, despite his rage, he couldn't help but feel slightly impressed with the young man that was glaring hatefully at him. No mortal he had ever encountered showed such lack of respect to him before and that, almost reckless, courage alone earned him a small bit of respect. But he was also confused by the lack of fear he sensed. Before now, only his oldest brother's First Disciple, Belgarath, appeared so calm in his presence but despite his outward lack of emotion, he could still feel that fear buried deep in his heart. And the old man certainly never had the audacity to insult him. He pulled himself out of his musing as Harry's last words sank in and he couldn't help but laugh, although there was definitely no humor in it. The very idea that this 'boy' thought that he could strike him down was the most ridiculous notion he had heard in a great many years.

"Thou shall not be the one to raise Cthrag Yaska," Torak began harshly, using the Angarak name for the Orb. It would seem that he did not care to much for death threats, even when the person was completely incapable of carrying them out. "The line of Iron-Grip will be torn asunder and any power possessed will be destroyed or bent to serve me and no one else. Thou art just as foolish as that imbecilic King and you shall depart from this life with him."

"I never claimed to be capable of using my master's orb, it would strike me down as it would anyone else. All I claimed was that I would take great pleasure in seeing you dead, and I shall. And just for the record, Riva and I, although we get along well enough, have very little in common, with the exception that neither of us is, imbecilic, that was the word you used, correct. One rather large difference is that he knows that one of his descendants will one day have to face you and he, and I'm sure his descendants will agree if they are anything like him, looks at your death as a duty, a task that they are honor bound to see accomplished. I, on the other hand, would not kill you out of duty or honor but simply because I would greatly enjoy seeing you dead. Killing your Grolims is one thing but seeing you destroyed will make any pain and hardship in my life worthwhile."

At this pronouncement, Torak's loose control on his temper finally broke and he attacked Harry's mind with a force almost more powerful and painful than anything he had ever experienced before. He could think of only one that eclipsed the experience. He gripped the front edge of his desk so hard that it left faint ridges where his fingers had been while every muscle in his body convulsed in a light but swift beat. It took all of his will power and knowledge of emotional control to prevent himself from screaming his throat raw as he refused to break eye contact with his torturer. After just a few seconds, that felt like years, he could feel blood running down from his nose when Torak's mind was suddenly pulled back. Due to the jerky movement and the fact that it was so sudden, Harry got the distinct impression that breaking his hold was not entirely his idea. With a growl of animalistic rage, the once beautiful god spun around and stalked out of the room. Where he headed Harry didn't really care.

"Thank you for the visit. Stop by anytime, we are always open." Harry chuckled lightly, nearly completely out of breath, as he suddenly stood and sent a dagger speeding through the air only to shatter when it hit its mark as Torak walked through the doorway. "Damn, and that was a good knife." He grumbled as he sat back down and wiped the blood off of his face while attempting to calm his rapidly beating heart and lungs, not to mention the severe pain that was throbbing within his head.

XXX

_"Any time, we are always open." _These words brought the invited mercenaries and body guards out of their shock and terror educed stupors and looked at the young man that was attempting to hire their services with a look that clearly suggested that they believed he was one hundred percent insane. There was absolutely no other explanation. If they had simply heard of this encounter instead of witnessing it with their own eyes they would quickly dismiss it as a ridiculous rumor or rationalize it by believing that this young Baron had staged this confrontation in an attempt to gain attention. But there was certainly no denying the power they all felt radiating off of the Dragon God, there was no other explanation other than it was indeed Torak.

"Oh, I apologize, I forgot you were there." Harry spoke up as he noticed the men staring at him, choosing to take no notice of their expressions.

"Perfectly understandable." One man choked out. He was about forty years old with short brown hair and bushy eyebrows. He had a serious, no nonsense air about him that left Harry wondering if he ever loosened up. After years of practice, Harry was perfectly comfortable with everyone around him believing him to be a bit touched in the head so it no longer bothered him.

"So, lets get down to business, shall we?" The hired soldiers looked back and forth between them before silently agreeing that they should at least hear the man out. Even those that were set to turn him down without listening to a word chose to remain. If the pay was good enough, it would certainly be refreshing to work for someone with a backbone for once.

For half an hour, Harry had explained the situation to the nearly three dozen men and answered questions regarding the tactical side of the issue. Many of the men looked genuinely interested but a few were holding out and he had a pretty good idea of the cause. Some of them were working as body guards for local politicians and merchants and while they still got paid nearly the same as the common soldiers that accompanied the caravans, it was a much more comfortable job with much less danger.

"I'm sure I can speak for everyone here when I say that I'm going to have to hear what this job pays before I give it much consideration. I'm sure not going to come work for you only to begin working for less than I make now." A stocky man with short black hair and a clean shaven face spoke up. Despite his occupation, and the number of scars he had amassed, he had kind, blue eyes that reminded Harry slightly of the innocence that Riva's carried.

"The soldiers that are currently guarding my goods are getting two gold crowns a month, that's obviously without taking into account how much they may be stealing from me. Any man that comes to work for me will be paid twice that amount, and any captains I hire will earn six." Harry couldn't help but smirk slightly at their dumbfounded expressions. "The reason for this is quite obvious. Well paid personnel are less likely to betray you and if my shipments get to their correct locations on time I will certainly be more than capable of making good.

"How many captains are you planning to higher and what would their responsibilities be?" As an answer, Harry waved the men over to the side of the room where a long work table was set up with a large, and very detailed, map was painted onto the surface.

"As you can see here," He began as he pointed to several locations that were labeled with different icons. "The mines and lands that either produce or refine my goods are spread out in a wide area. From the Kingdoms of Karanda in the north and into the south, through the five kingdoms that made up the old Melcena Empire. With that much distance between them I'm going to have to use a few different trading routes so I figured on at least three captains, four or five would be preferable, just in case. As for their responsibilities, they will be the highest authority over the caravans until they reach their destination and again once they leave to ship whatever gold and silver that was made back here. I am well aware that traditionally the Wagoner have been in charge but that changes now. While they may have intimate knowledge concerning the terrain, they do not have the skills necessary to recognize and deal with possible threats."

"How are you planning to deal with the ruling class? Noblemen must pay extra taxes for use of their soldiers so it goes without saying that they will not like you seeking protection elsewhere, denying them that revenue! Especially if others follow your example."

"That is relatively simple. I'll threaten them. I've already got Urvon quivering like a mass of pond scum, the kings of some petty half starved kingdoms don't really concern me unless they try to do something stupid."

"They could travel to Mal Zeth and bring their complaints directly to the Emperor."

"That would be something stupid. For the most part, these kings are spineless, incompetent fools but it would take a complete moron to go to Mal Zeth to complain over something so trivial. King or not, they would probably be flogged right out of the city unless the emperor decided to just kill him outright and put someone with a backbone into power."

"Alright, one more question, how are you going to determine who you hire for these captain positions?"

"It's simple enough, all you have to do is defeat me! Conventional weapons only, of course."

XXX

Naturally, each of the men were interested in the positions of captain so over a two week period Harry had dueled each of them and was greatly impressed. Only four had managed to defeat him but all proved to be quite skilled in the arts of combat. Even though most had lost, they were each guaranteed a position if they wanted it. Most chose to work for him. Harry liked to think that they made their choice because he had impressed them but the increase in pay had certainly been a deciding factor as well.

Each of his captains were responsible for recruiting the men they needed to fill out their ranks and with luck each would have at least forty men under their command with the exception of the group that would be responsible for the protection of the mines in Gandahar. They would need at least one hundred to properly protect the mines themselves as well as any shipments. As expected, the other merchants on the island thought that the idea was ridiculous and he won no new friends in the Consortium. That is until they actually took note of just how much they were paying for troop escorts and protection as well as the loss of hijacked shipments. A great many however refused to even think of the idea simply because that was the way it had always been done. Sooner or later their losses and Harry's gains would certainly change their minds.

It took quite some time for everything to be properly organized but after three months, the men had been hired, trained, equipped and were ready to depart. Harry was just signing the final dispatches as well as his declarations that would be delivered to the proper nobility when Beldin suddenly burst through his office door with a visibly irritated Mako right behind him.

"I apologize, My Lord, but we couldn't stop him." His chief advisor said calmly, though a little nervously as he looked at the filthy dwarf.

"That is quite alright, my friend. Beldin, its good to see you, though I didn't think you would have missed my company already." Harry smiled, though he had a pretty good idea why he was here. Beldin was extremely intelligent after all.

"Don't get cute with me, boy. I was on my way here anyway but sped things up when I worked out your little puzzle." Beldin snapped before turning to inspect the four warriors that were standing off to the side. They were dressed similarly, with a combination of both chain-mail and plate armor of great quality and each wore a fine long cloak of either black, red, blue or green.

"Really, in which case let me finish up so that you can tell me what you came up with." Harry quickly signed the various pieces of parchment before sealing them with wax. He handed each of his captain's three scrolls each and with a sharp nod they silently made their way out of the room.

"Who were they? They looked almost as fierce as Mimbrate Knights, only with intelligence shining behind their eyes. "

"Those were the captains of my new soldiers."

"Your soldiers? What are you doing, building an army?"

"In a manner of speaking. With my appointment as Baron of Anden, I suddenly found myself to be a merchant. A merchant whose caravans have been coming under attack lately because the local troops that are paid to protect them either have no desire to do so or they are robbing them themselves."

"Smart, but those troops won't like the fact that they just lost a cushy position, neither will their lord."

"That's being taken care of. So, what brought you here? Originally I mean."

"Hedwig!" Beldin answered simply, causing Harry to blink at him in confusion.

"Hedwig? What's a Hedwig?" He asked much to Beldin's annoyance.

"Its an owl?"

"Hmm, never heard of that breed before."

"Its not a breed, you fool." He growled dangerously. "Hedwig is the owl's name."

"Well why didn't you simply say that instead of throwing around strange words as if they were an explanation in itself?" Harry defended himself before the aforementioned owl soared through the open door. "Hedwig, old girl." He shouted in excitement as he jumped out of his chair to greet his old companion. Hedwig landed on his shoulder and after gazing into his eyes for a brief moment, she came to the conclusion that this was in fact her wizard despite the fact that he grew much older in a seemingly short period of time, for her anyway. Harry happily stroked her soft feathers as she rubbed the head against he cheek while hooting softly.

"You knew what I was talking about?" Beldin shouted, half asking and half in accusation.

"Of course I did, I just wanted to annoy you." Harry responded with a grin but quickly moved on before Beldin's anger grew. "So what did you come up with?" During his training with Polgara, Harry would occasionally attack her without warning in an attempt to teach her to be aware of her surroundings at all times, even when in the safety of the Vale. On one such occasion, Belgarath noticed Harry vanish before his eyes just moments before he launched his sneak attack on the unsuspecting girl and later he and Beldin demanded to know how he had done it. Naturally, Harry wanted to be difficult, so he only told them that there were two steps and if they figured out the first then he would tell them the second. Belgarath had worked on it for a total of about two days before he turned his attention to other things. Beldin, however, did not. His intelligence and thirst for knowledge demanded nothing less.

"I can only imagine that your first step is to somehow bend all forms of visible light around the body, effectively taking yourself out of any visible spectrum. The second step, I'm sure, deals with protecting yourself from that light since with one mistake, you could literally fry yourself with such a high concentration of light around you at all times."

"Congratulations, Beldin. You worked that out much faster than I did. Now, how would one go about protecting yourself?" The dwarf growled in irritation. If there was one thing he hated, on an intellectual stand point, it was admitting that he didn't know something. It was a matter of pride, you see.

"That's why I'm here! I don't know."

"Well of course you don't know. You don't know because only I know. If you knew, and I didn't, you would be teaching me instead of me teaching you, and for a student to teach his teacher is both presumptuous and rude." (1) This time Beldin didn't bother to verbalize his anger, rather he walked right up to Harry and cuffed him on the back of the head, rather hard. Hedwig fluttered her wings a bit to keep her balance on his shoulder but otherwise she seemed to find it rather amusing.

"Fine, you don't have to get so violent." Harry whined with a slight smile as he rubbed his head. For the next hour or so, he explained, at great length, the basic concept of one of the advanced shielding charms he learned back in Hogwarts and how he modified the original purpose of protecting against physical attacks to protecting against all forms of light. Unfortunately this leaves you in the position of literally being blind since no light can enter or exit the shield but if you are well versed in the mind arts you can still 'see' everything around you as if you were using your eyes. However this gave you an incredible headache if used more than five or six minutes at a time.

Beldin had snatched a few pieces of parchment off of Harry's desk and was quickly writing every word down at a furious pace. Occasionally he interrupted Harry to ask for clarification on a few points and even suggested some possible changes that could make the process more efficient. Despite his knowledge of Beldin's keen intellect, Harry was slightly surprised at how quickly he was able to pick up the concept and how to turn it into practical use. For someone who had never used such a technique it was mind boggling, really.

"I have to admit that this is actually some brilliant work, Belhaldar." Beldin praised his new 'brother' a bit reluctantly. He didn't give his approval lightly.

"You know, every time I hear that name spoken, it makes me feel a little giddy inside. Hearing it come out of Torak's mouth was even better." Harry said as he lightly touched the small silver medallion with an intricately carved sword resting in an outstretched fist in the center that he now wore around his neck. He made it himself with a bit of help from Aldur since he had no talent for artwork. It would offer him a fair bit of protection as well as make it _slightly_ easier for his new brothers to contact him without lowering his mental defenses.

"Yes, well, that will wear off in time once you get used to it and... TORAK! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" He demanded in shock. "When did _you_ talk to Torak?"

"About three, three and a half months ago, I think." Harry replied after a moments thought. "Apparently his was a bit annoyed that his assassins had been unable to dispose of me so he dropped in for a little visit. We insulted each other, threw around a few threats and in the end he tried to kill me himself. Thankfully, 'something' intervened after just a few moments. Even if I could, I wouldn't change a thing about that discussion but I certainly didn't relish experiencing that level of pain. The power of his mind in quite extraordinary, not as powerful as Aldur's but pretty close."

"You've felt the full power of Aldur's mind?" Beldin asked with a disbelieving scowl. The idea that his master would punish someone by subjecting them to _that_ was a bit insulting to him.

"Yes, I have! A number of years ago I asked it of him. I wanted to get an idea of what it was like incase I was ever in Torak's presence since he would certainly have no reservations about such things. It was the most powerful, and the most painful thing I have ever experienced." Once again, Beldin stared at Harry as if he were completely insane for requesting such a thing. He, himself, had never gone through such a thing but he had a pretty good idea how it might feel. After a few brief moments he shook off his bewilderment enough to move the conversation along.

"I take pride in the fact that he has consented to be my master, but even Aldur cannot match UL. Now THAT is power."

"You've met him before?" Harry asked with interest.

"On a few occasions, why?"

"Of everyone I've met here in Mallorea, of the few that have even heard the name UL at all, it has only been with people denying his existence. Mostly by the Grolims."

"Yes, you'll find that everywhere. Even in the western kingdoms the priests refuse to recognize him. They do it mostly out of arrogance, I assume."

"How's that?"

"Belhaldar, most people, especially priests, want to believe that the god they serve is the wisest and most powerful. They couldn't really continue with this little fiction if they accepted UL's existence. The idea that their god was created by another, more powerful being does not conform to their beliefs."

"That's a strange sort of logic."

XXX

Hedwig's appearance caused a great many emotions to stir within Harry. Chief among them was guilt. Guilt in the fact that he was the only one that could end the conflict that plagued his former home and yet he was in no position to do so. As a result, he was sure, the death toll would continue to rise and an untold number would be torn from their families too soon. Just as he was. However, as guilty as these thoughts made him feel, it was eclipsed by the fact that after almost twelve years he had begun to forget his former friends to the point where it was difficult to even recall their faces. For the first two years he had spent in the Vale, he had almost ritualistically flipped through his old photo album or read through the book he had made to write down nearly everything he could remember about his home world nearly every night but that ended when he traveled to the Isle of the Winds for Beldaran's wedding and the subsequent trip to Mallorea. Both objects remained in his old school trunk in the twins' tower, untouched by him since. Despite these feelings, however, he wouldn't change the circumstances even if he could. Even with the constant danger his life had been in, the past twelve years had been the happiest of his life, even more then his time at Hogwarts.

As everyone expected, the aristocracy that was directly effected was outraged at Harry's 'audacity' in hiring mercenaries to protect his interests on the mainland but thankfully it was kept mainly to harsh words. For the most part he had been correct in assuming that the mere threat of violence would be enough to keep them in line despite the loss of revenue they would take. The same could not be said for the common soldiers that suddenly found themselves without their easy source of income. It took nearly a year of sporadic attacks before they finally realized that Harry's troops were much better trained then they were. On the plus side, this period served to ward off the normal bandits that usually plague the caravan routes as their reputation spread, especially those of Harry's four captains that many had begun calling the Four Horseman. When Harry first heard this he found it quite amusing since he had heard that reference before, though he couldn't seem to remember where he had originally heard it.

As a result of his initiative, the rulers of Darshiva, Gandahar and Rengel, in eastern Mallorea, tightened their control over their soldiers in an attempt to ward off other merchants from following his example. While they may have made_ minor_ improvements, it was far from satisfactory in Harry's opinion though other merchants appeared to want to see how things worked out for him before making any move themselves. He was, after all, paying a great deal more for his own troops but the fact that his merchandise was well protected made it worth almost any price.

The biggest problem that he had encountered during his stay in Melcena was when he decided to take up his seat on the Consortium. It seemed that while many of the noblemen were willing to at least be courteous to the representatives he had previously sent, that courtesy did not extend to him. The idea of an 'Alorn peasant' sitting among them as an equal was almost unthinkable. Most were openly hostile though the fact that it was Harry alone that was keeping the Grolims at bay kept it from degenerating to physical violence. The fact that it was now known that he was a disciple of one of the god's aided in this as well. Harry had expected nothing less so it was no great surprise, though he did find it somewhat amusing.

For the most part, these meetings, which reminded him of recreations of the Roman Senate back on Earth, were terribly boring and the members seemed to think even the most tedious of tasks were of great world importance. After gaining a bit of first hand experience he concluded that while they could wield a great deal of power in the field of economics, like the vast majority of noblemen, the Consortium had an over inflated sense of self importance and, over all, they made things more difficult than they had too. Nearly every problem that cropped up, they had to form a committee to closely examine every facet of the given situation before they would even begin to consider how to correct it, even for mundane matters, often taking years to properly resolve the given situation even if the obvious answer had been staring them in the face the whole time. While such detail should be shown in the more important and sensitive of government works to do so for minor problems is hardly efficient.

Over the following years, the initial disapproval of his presence began to dim slightly, though many of the older members were still far from friendly towards him. Among those that chose to see past his 'lowly birth' he gained a reputation of being a fair and honest man that would do his best to help just about anyone, as long as any action they had already taken wasn't too insidious. He could also be trusted not to use any information they gave him to further himself in some fashion at their expense. While this change was extremely slow, it did give Harry a small sense of satisfaction. To earn a place for yourself in a society where most would wish you were not there, while considerably more difficult and irritating, was a great deal more satisfying then starting over somewhere where no one knows who you are.

He traveled back to the west twice during these years and solely for the purpose of visiting Beldaran and Riva, stopping in the Vale for only a short period before moving on again, much to Polgara's silent pleasure. He never once stopped to explore the western kingdoms for the simple fact that they held no priority for him. The brief meetings he had with their people left him with no desire to meet more of them. He knew perfectly well that you couldn't judge an entire race based on the actions of a few but first impressions are always the hardest to forget.

Since his first meeting with Torak, Harry was greatly surprised that the almost regular assassination attempts had all but stopped. There were a few poor bastards that would try but their poorly thought out plans and mediocre skill left him with the conclusion that most were either men that wanted to make a name for themselves with his death or possibly friends or family of the men he had killed looking for revenge rather than any serious attempts by either Torak or Urvon. For the most part things had been quiet, well quiet compared to the rest of his life at any rate. Unfortunately this all changed one morning when he suddenly felt his medallion lightly vibrate against his chest. This was the first time it had done such a thing so he clearly had no idea what was going on, which caused him a great amount of worry. This only increased drastically when he lightly touched the object only to hear Belkira's voice echoing in his head.

"My Lord!" Mako said softly as he entered Harry's suite but his employer didn't seem to notice.

By now Harry was forty years old, although unlike most men of his age his hair and short beard was still of the darkest black without a hint of grey. His face had accumulated a few lines over the years but he still looked and felt as young and strong as ever. He had filled out a little more giving his body the perfect combination of both speed and power and yet he felt utterly helpless as his vivid green eyes gazed out the window towards the vast expanse of the Great Western Sea.

"The ship's crew is assembled and ready to depart."

"I won't be needing it." Harry answered softly without turning around after several moments of silence. "Even at my fastest, the journey will take nearly a year and by then she could be long dead." Mako looked incredibly confused for several moments before the answer finally came to him.

"My Lord, you can't be serious!" He spoke up in a shocked tone. "No ship could make that journey and no crew would attempt it, the seas are far to rough."

"That is why I won't be needing the ship. This could easily cut the travel time down to a matter of weeks and I've gone without sleep for longer than that." Finally Harry turned away from the window and the look in his eyes told his advisor that he had made up his mind and no force in the universe was going to change it. His Lord was without a doubt the strongest man he had ever met and he had seen him accomplish many incredible feats, but to attempt to fly over the width of the Great Sea was absolute madness, and he voiced this belief but his protests fell on deaf ears. After giving Mako a number of short instructions and giving Hedwig a few scrolls to deliver to his captains, Harry calmly strode out of the room with both human and owl gazing at his retreating back with the knowledge that he would undoubtedly never return.

TBC

(1) This line comes from the film Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I got it stuck in my head so I decided to use it.


	8. Times of Woe

TO END ALL WARS

First off, I want to apologize to everyone that has been waiting for months for this chapter but I spent a great deal of time getting everything in order and a decent outline of how to continue. For those of you who I promised that this would be posted last month, sorry but for those of you who know where I live, you know that the last month and more has been a near disaster with all the flooding. I spent three weeks at my sister's place in Houston waiting for the water to go down and after that my days were spent doing nothing but clean up. Believe it or not but this past Thursday was the first day I even sat down in front of a computer since I posted the first chapter of Family Ties.

TO END ALL WARS

By

Padfootjr24 and Trelawney's Love Toy

_This first scene between Belgarath and Daren comes directly from Belgarath the Sorcerer._

Chapter Eight: Western Wanderings

_Upon receiving word of Beldaran's condition, despite his discomfort with flight, Belgarath changed into the form of a falcon and winged his way across the western continent as fast as he could manage. On a few occasions he had attempted translocation to move himself along at a faster pace but unfortunately he quickly discovered that such an act would immediately return him to his human form. And finding yourself a mile high in the air without the benefit of wings was not a situation a person would find comforting._

_It took only two days of nearly constant flight before he reached the port city of Camaar but despite his exhaustion, he pushed himself on over the Sea of the Winds. But as fast as he was, he wasn't fast enough. Beldaran had died the night before. Burying his grief for the time being, he set out to speak with Riva but quickly found that to be an impossible task. The man was completely consumed by the loss of his beloved wife and was completely incapable of thinking in a rational manner much less ruling his island kingdom. Polgara was likewise inconsolable._

_It took him a while, but he was eventually able to track down his grandson, finding him atop the highest tower of the Citadel. It appeared that he had cried himself out, and was standing, puffy eyed and somber at the battlements. He was full grown now, fairly tall with a lean frame._

"_Alright, Daran," He said to the younger man harshly. "Get away from there."_

"_Grandfather?"_

"_I said get away from there." He certainly wasn't going to take any chances with him. A sudden upsurge of despair could very well push him into doing something foolish. Belgarath would have time for his own grief later, for the moment he had to concentrate on the boy's._

"_What are we going to do, Grandfather?" He wept._

"_We are going to go on, Daran. It's what we always do. Now, tell me what happened."_

"_Mother's been catching cold every winter for several years now. Aunt Pol told us it weakened her lungs. This past winter it was much worse. She started coughing up blood so father sent for Aunt Pol. There was nothing she could do though, she tried everything, but mother was just too weak. Why weren't you here, Grandfather? You could have done something."_

"_I'm not a physician, Daran. Your aunt knows far more about that than I do. If she couldn't save your mother, I certainly couldn't. Does your father have a Prime Minister, someone that takes care of things when he is busy?"_

"_You mean Brand? He's the Rivan Warder. Father depends on him to handle the administration."_

"_We'd better go talk to him then. You are going to have to take over here until your father recovers from this."_

"_Me, why me?"_

"_You're the Crown Prince, Daran, that's why. It's your responsibility. Your father's incapacitated right now, that drops everything in your lap."_

"_I don't think that's very fair. I feel just as bad about this as father does."_

"_Not quite. At least you can still think. He can't. We'll help you through it and Brand should know what has to be done."_

"_Father will get better, won't he?"_

"_We can hope so. It might take him a while. It took me twelve years after your grandmother died."_

"_Nobody is going to pay attention to me, Grandfather. I don't even have a full beard yet."_

"_You're twenty years old Daran, its time you grew up. Now, let's go talk with Brand." He realized that that may have come out a bit more harsh than necessary but someone on the island had to be able to function properly. Riva quite obviously couldn't. The Orb absolutely had to be protected, and if word of Riva's state got back to Ctuchik, well, he didn't really want to think of the possibilities._

_Brand was one of those solid, dependable men that the world needs more of. He understood the situation long before Belgarath even brought it up. He was also unusually perceptive for an Alorn, so he was able to see not only what the old sorcerer told him but also what he couldn't tell him in front of Daran. There was a distinct possibility that Riva would never recover and Daran would have to serve as regent until his father died. They were going to bury the younger man in details to the point where his grief wouldn't incapacitate him_ _as well._

During this meeting, Belgarath was surprised to learn that Belhaldar had arrived three days before he did but had only woken up the day before after collapsing on the deck of a Cherek war boat after flying the entire expanse of the Great Western Sea, proving, without a doubt, that the man was completely insane. Incidentally, it was the very same ship that Bralon, Cherek Bear-Shoulders' only son by his second wife, was receiving some of his training. In other words, he was manning an ore while some psychotic sailor beat the crew members into rowing faster.

After leaving the two other men talking, Belgarath stalked down the stairwell that led to the baths within the bowels of the citadel with little more than anguish in his heart. He had no doubt that Belhaldar felt the same pain but for the time being they could not spare the time to wallow in their grief, there would be time enough for that later. The most important matter at hand right now was insuring that the Orb would be protected and that Daran would get all the help he could get.

Stepping out into the cellar that housed the bathes, Belgarath looked around and spotted only one occupant in the enormous bath that he once heard his youngest 'brother' refer to as a swimming pool. Belgarath wasn't exactly inclined to personal hygiene but even he enjoyed a long soak when he was on the island. One side was kept at about room temperature while the other was heated by fires in a chamber below that were tended to at all hours of the day. On an island that had a perpetual chill in the air during the summers and well below freezing during the winters, a soak in hot water felt good every once in a while.

Shaking off these ridiculous thoughts, given the situation, he made his way over to Belhaldar where he lay floating on the water's surface with his arms draped over the side, to give him some support, and his head leaned back with his eyes closed.

Though it had been only five years since he had last seen the man as he stopped by the Vale on his way back to Mallorea after spending some time visiting Beldaran, there were some drastic differences in his appearance. Although he must be around forty years old by now, it would seem he stopped aging, physically at any rate, at around thirty. He was still a bit under six foot tall and still covered in lean muscle, built for speed and leverage rather than pure power, but there was one difference that stood out in sharp contrast to the young man he remembered. And that was the tattoos that now adorned his arms.

Both of his arms, from the wrist to the shoulder were nearly completely covered in dark blue and black ink to the point where it looked almost as if he were wearing sleeves that were stitched into the most complicated pattern he had ever seen. The different designs and runes were weaved together flawlessly and could almost be mistaken for a work of art. He had seen many of these designs before, even faked them numerous times, but he had never seen such a complete work. Under normal circumstances the individuals would have them spaced out over various parts of their bodies, including their faces as part of the religious observation of the Morindim here in the west and the Karands in Mallorea, demon worshipers. Their magicians would draw such runes on the ground and use incantations to summon the demons for just about any purpose they choose and it often results in the magician's death when they lose control of the beast and it turns on them.

Belgarath himself had become an apprentice to an old magician to learn the art many years before and while he is capable of using it, it had never come easy to him. An apprenticeship to a magician was basically entering into slavery. You would become your master's slave until he saw fit to release you or he died. In Belgarath's case, when his 'master' had summoned a demon he caused the creature to break free, turning it against the one that summoned it. A very effective way of ending such an apprenticeship. But judging by his tattoos, it was clear to him that Belhaldar took the art much more seriously than he ever did.

In point of fact, unlike Belgarath, he never felt the need to enter into such an agreement to learn the skill. Harry merely found a magician, knocked him unconscious and ransacked his mind for all pertinent information. Although he felt that he knew enough about the summoning of demons, he would still use this technique on any skilled magicians he came across. He wasn't arrogant enough to believe that he knew everything worth knowing. Besides which, he may have gained the knowledge, but he seriously lacked the experience when handling such creatures.

"I see you have delved rather deep into your studies the last few years!" Belgarath stated for lack of anything else to say. "But I must ask why you have marred your body in such a way when it is just as easy to fake the symbols when you need them rather then carry them around with you always."

"Because, Belgarath, if you had paid closer attention you would know that the magicians use these tattoos for more than just identification and a focus for their concentration." Without any warning every last inch of tattooed skin erupted into blue flame and crackled merrily before being snuffed out just as fast as it began. To any outside observer, Belgarath would seem to have been oblivious to this fact as he was still staring at Harry's arms in shock. "There are several other interesting uses as well but I decided to get them simply because I liked the idea of being able to set my arms on fire." Belgarath just nodded silently, thinking that if he were still a young man, such an ability would likely have tempted him as well.

"You just recently arrived and considering the recent events, I'm fairly certain you did not come down here merely for my company nor to inquire into my study habits, so what is it that you want?" Harry asked, finally looking up into the old man's eyes. Belgarath was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a fashion and was prepared to chastise the younger man but held his tongue when he saw the raw pain in his eyes, pain that he knew reflected in his as well. They were obviously not related by blood but if someone even dared to tell Belhaldar or Beldaran that they were not family, they would certainly be in a great deal of trouble. It was one of the few things that could actually get Beldaran angry. He meant just as much to her as Polgara did.

"With Riva incapacitated as he is, Daran is going to have to rule as regent for the time being. For an Alorn, Brand has got a good head on his shoulders but I need someone I know I can trust to stay here to look after things until Daran is comfortable with his position. The last thing we need is for the Angaraks, or even the Tolnedrans, to take advantage of the situation. With your experience…"

"Forget it!"

"Excuse me!"

"I said, forget it, Belgarath! At the moment I am going through all the memories of Beldaran I have collected over the last twenty four years. Every move, every look and every word spoken, and burning them into my brain so that no matter how long I live, I'll never forget them. Right now, that is my _only_ priority. Nothing short of Torak himself entering this fortress will spur me into any other action. Once that is complete, I have my own instructions from the Master to follow. I can not be tied down on this godforsaken rock for a few years while Daran learns how to be a king. Now I can help him for a few weeks, but in a month's time, I will be gone." Taking a few calming breaths, he laid his head back once more and just stared up at the ceiling and tried to lose himself in the hot water and steam that enveloped his body.

"You know, it's strange, really!" The younger man spoke up in an emotionless voice. "You arrived too late, and more than anything, you wish you could have arrived sooner, while I, on the other hand, arrived just in time and in an odd sort of way, I wish I had arrived a little bit later, or woken up a bit later."

"And why is that?" Belgarath asked a bit harshly causing Harry to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He looked at the older man before coming to a decision.

"Open your mind to me, and I will show you!" After a few moments thought he allowed the other man into his mind and felt the unwelcome sensation of a memory not his own being moved to the forefront of his mind.

_Belgarath felt his feet pounding on the flagstone floors, he heard the echoes they caused throughout the corridor, he could smell the sweat pouring off of his exhausted body and his muscles cried out in anguish due to his long flight over the Great Western Sea. And above all, he felt the panicked mind of his younger 'brother'. With the skill that the memory had been implanted it was hard for him to remember that it came from another man's mind. He was certain that this was the memory of Beldaran's last moments and he was grateful to see it, anything to see his little girl alive once more, but he could certainly have done without the physical pain that the memory projected, though it did give him a new respect for the younger man that he was able to push it aside as he made his way to his destination._

_It was not long before he came to a door he knew to be the royal bed chambers and it was almost amusing to see the soldiers standing guard scatter in an attempt to get out of his way before he literally crashed through the door and he could hear a resounding pop as a sharp pain spread throughout his shoulder as he staggered inside. He paid no heed to Polgara as she sat in a nearby chair crying or Riva who was doing the same as he held his wife's hand with their son standing behind him with tears streaming down his face. He was surprised to notice that it was his own consciousness, not Belhaldar's body, that winced as his body dropped to its knees and skidded a couple of feet before coming to rest beside the bed. Once again, he seemed to take no notice of the pain shooting through his legs._

_Locked in their grief, no one seemed to notice his entrance except Beldaran who, despite her exhaustion and the pain she was in, greeted him with a tired smile. He couldn't suppress the sob that escaped him as he took in her weak appearance. Pale skin was common on the Isle of the Winds due to the almost perpetually overcast skies but her skin had taken on an almost chalk white appearance with dark circles around her eyes and a bluish tint to her lips. Her body was lightly trembling under her thick blankets and despite the pain she was obviously in, her eyes shined with happiness at having her friend by her side once again. That fact alone brought the young man to tears._

"_I'm glad to have you both with me again!" She spoke up quietly as she looked him in the eyes and then at her sister. It was not but ten minutes later that she slipped into a coma before passing on a few hours later. _

Belgarath blinked back the tears in his eyes before he realized that his mind was back in his own body and at some point he had slipped down to his knees in anguish.

"I think I would have been able to handle it better if I had not been there to see her slip away as she did. How she looked at both me and Polgara with a smile, as if dying was an acceptable price to pay to have the both of us with her at the same time again." Harry spoke up quietly after a few moments of silence. Looking up and seeing the confusion in the older man's eyes, he continued. "Polgara and I have never liked each other, and we had never made any secret of that fact, but when Beldaran was around we were at least civil to each other, for her sake. As it stands, the last time she saw the two of us together was for her wedding and that was well over twenty years ago. She never let on that it bothered her, at least not to me. But looking into her eyes last night I could tell that she was very disappointed that the two of us never worked out our differences."

"So are you planning to do it now, because it is something Beldaran would want?"

"No! Despite my desire to make Beldaran happy, I will not lower myself to the levels that would be necessary to accomplish that. You know very well that Polgara is way too stubborn to simply let it go. She has to be the one to come out on top, the one in the position of power, and that would mean that I would have to go to her to apologize, grovel even, for things that I had nothing to do with."

"You are not as innocent in this feud as you make it sound!" Belgarath stated sharply in an accusatory tone.

"I'm not saying that I am. However, just about everything Polgara has done, or tried to do to me, has been malicious in nature, seeking to cause me harm for no other reason then out of some petty grudge against you. You brought me to the Vale so, to her twisted form of logic, I was just as bad as you. On the other hand, everything I have done to her has either been out of self defense or with specific purposes in mind, such as her training. You know that as well as I do. Now, if you don't mind, I have other business to attend to." Without another word spoken, he closed his eyes again and began sifting through his memories once more.

XXX

"It's me, Pol, open up!" Belgarath spoke up as he knocked on his daughter's door.

"Go away."

"Open the door, Polgara. I need to talk to you."

"Get away from me, father." She snapped, causing the old sorcerer to shrug although there was no one there to see it.

"It's your door, Pol. If you don't open it right now, you'll have to have it replaced." Her face looked pretty ravaged when she finally got around to opening the door.

"What is it?"

"You haven't got time for this, Polgara. You can cry yourself out later, but right now I need you. Riva can't even think so I've made Daran regent. Someone is going to have to look after him and I've got something that absolutely _has_ to be done."

"Why me, why not Belhaldar?"

"To be perfectly honest, he was my first choice. After all, he does have a great deal more experience in such matters but he refuses to do it. You got elected because you are the only one that can handle it. You are going to stay here and help Daran in any way you can. Don't let him sink into melancholia the way his father has. The Angaraks have eyes everywhere and if there is any sign of weakness here you can expect a visit from Ctuchik soon. Now, pull yourself together. Blow your nose and fix your face. Daran is with Brand right now. Once you've freshened up I'll take you to them and then I have to leave."

"You're not staying for the funeral?"

"No amount of ceremony is going to make the pain in my heart disappear, Pol. Now fix your face, you look awful." After showing Polgara to the small meeting room and getting her started, Belgarath quickly made his excuses and left. Instead of leaving the island immediately as he led everyone to believe he intended, he made his way into the mountains on the western side of the island and when he was sure he was alone he collapsed to the ground and cried like a broken hearted child.

XXX

Despite her standing as a queen, Beldaran's funeral was a simple affair, just as she would have wanted, with only family and close friends in attendance. Of course the other Alorn monarchs were included and they had been devastated that they had not arrived in time. Harry stood off to the side and observed as they tried to console their brother or son. From his out of the way location he scrutinized them intensely and for the first time he realized how old they truly were. When he had first met them as a teenager, they had seemed so strong and full of life and even the passing years did nothing to dispel that image when he had seen them during his infrequent trips back to the western continent. However, now he was forced to see things for what they truly were.

Seeing him now, he was greatly surprised that Cherek Bear-Shoulders had managed to live as long as he has. His large powerful body had lost a great deal of weight and on occasions looked rather frail while he needed help when it came to walking any considerable distance. It was quite clear to him that the last ruler of a fully unified Aloria did not have much time left. He had, after all, well surpassed the average life expectancy for this world.

Even Riva, youngest of the four kings was nearly sixty years old now. Even though Dras and Algar were both several years older then him, Harry had no doubt that they would both outlive their younger brother. While everyone hoped that the Rivan King would recover from the loss of his wife, Belhaldar believed that his melancholy would soon rob him of his life.

At the time, Harry believed that it would take an act from the gods to prevent him from attending his best friend's funeral but now, just like witnessing her last moments, he wished he had missed it. Although he had several days to mourn and get used to the idea, he had never taken part in a more emotionally draining experience. Although he considered Riva, his brothers and father, as well as his cousin Anrak, among his closest friends, he firmly decided that he would not attend their eventual funerals.

At first he believed that the possibility of living for hundreds, if not thousands, of years was an exciting prospect, after all, he could see the world reshape itself as it moves throughout the endless progression of centuries. But he was quickly realizing that the down sides seemed to outweigh the good. The idea of watching all those he cared about grow old and die while he remained the same was not a welcome thought. He was only forty years on in a life that could well span several millennia, and he was already beginning to feel considerably weary.

XXX

Just as he had told Belgarath, Harry stayed on the island for roughly one month before leaving once again. Thankfully, Daren had a good head on his shoulders and while he may not have had any experience with matters such as ruling a kingdom, he was intelligent enough to seek help or just general advice when it was needed.

While Harry, Polgara and Brand had intended to stick with a beneficial, if not somewhat complicated, platform for molding Garan's skills, their lessons quickly simplified themselves as each 'instructor' took control of the aspect that they were most comfortable with.

While Brand focused mainly on teaching the boy the ins and outs of governing a small island nation, Polgara took it upon herself to further his education, after all, being ignorant made you that much easier to manipulate for the simple reason that you don't have the knowledge to avoid such situations. While not with Daran, Polgara was ransacking just about every collection of books within a reasonable distance for any medical knowledge. She both prayed for, and dreaded, finding anything that could have saved her sister's life. While she had taken an instant fascination with healing while Beldaran had been pregnant, it had now become an obsession. While she had managed to stave off the madness that many had feared would consume her upon Beldaran's death, both Harry and Belgarath felt that if she actually found some medicine or healing technique that would have worked, she would lose her mind completely.

Harry worked with him on his fighting skills and international politics. Though he didn't have much experience with the other western nations, with Brand's help he was able to give the young man a solid grounding in what to expect in the years to come. This was certainly the most important aspect of his current studies. While he didn't have much of anything to fear from the other Alorn nations and the Arends viewed political intrigue as dishonorable, that still left the Tolnedrans and Nyissans.

The Nyissns had a predominately isolationist view on foreign policy but on the rare occasion that he would have to deal with an ambassador from Salmissera the possibility of poisoning or being drugged into compliance with their wishes was the most pressing danger. The mentality of the followers of Issa closely resembled that of the serpents that they revered. Deception and a sly nature were characteristics that were cultivated and assassination was viewed as an acceptable method of advancing yourself.

The Tolnedran's, however, would be the biggest hurdle to overcome for the new regent of the Rivan thrown. Once news of Riva's condition reached Tol Honeth, the emperor would immediately dispatch a small army of ambassadors to the island nation to negotiate one treaty after another with many hidden clauses that would gain them more power over the region. With a young, inexperienced ruler who was still morning the loss of his mother, they would obviously hope to take advantage of the situation and breeze through any negotiations. This was what they had to prevent. While technically, Tolnedra was an ally, they had a nasty habit of trying to enforce their will upon others, whether it be financially, politically or militarily.

At the moment, only Alorn merchants were permitted to do business within the walls of the citadel, any others were regulated to the wharfs outside the main gates. Despite the harsh conditions that regularly assaulted the island, Arendish and even the odd Nyssian merchant had little complaint with this arrangement due to the high volume of traffic seen in the harbor, bringing the new arrivals straight passed their positions before entering the city. For the Tolnedrans, however, it was unacceptable, though they didn't stress it to much verbally. For a society based on financial gain and political position, being denied a more prominent location within the city was insulting to their sensibilities. The fact that this arrangement was meant to be a form of protection for the _Orb _didn't matter to them.

When he decided that it was time for him to leave, Harry didn't bother telling anyone. He didn't inform Polgara or Brand, didn't check on Riva or even wish his 'nephew' good luck. He simply transformed and flew off into the night. Daran had been quite skilled with a sword before hand and he had crammed as much politics into his head as the boy could handle. His job was done and there was no reason to stick around any longer and he had no intention of returning until well after both Riva and Anrak were dead. Seeing Beldaran die the way she did created a deep resolve in him to avoid such experiences with those he cared about in the future.

Once he reached the city of Camaar, he bought a good horse and began his journey, first making his way to the northern shore of Arendia before crisscrossing the country east to west, from the shores of the _Sea of the Winds _to the borders of the Mountains of Ulgo in the west, slowly making his way south. What he found in the early goings of this '_journey for knowledge'_, as his master had called it, was that his feelings concerning the Arends was woefully inadequate.

Originally, he had disliked the race because of the apparent lack of commonsense, now he had a much better reason. The Arendish nobility had a regular practice of serfdom, something he had not encountered before, even in Mallorea. He had certainly been aware of slavery, yes, but in his mind this was far worse. A slave was well aware of his lot in life with no illusions contradicting his reality. A serf, however, is nothing more than a slave that is left with the illusion of their freedom. They are bound to serve whatever noble owns the lands that they work and it is up to that noble how much, if any, of the food they raise goes to feeding themselves and their children. If they do not work hard enough to turn the desired profit or if their Lord simply grows weary of them, they are banished from their lands and new serfs are brought in to fill the void.

While it is true that some serfs are treated quite well by their lords, such as plenty of food and good working and living conditions, this was by no means the norm. Most, no matter how hard they work or how much loyalty they show, will live their entire lives in complete squalor. He passed through a few serf villages which were nothing more than small shacks or tents arrayed along a crude dirt road. Most went hungry for most of the week while others forced themselves to find ways to eat grass and tree bark. The noblemen and landowners took no notice of their plight, it was simply the way of the world to them. By the time his steady journey south brought him to the northern edge of the Great Arendish Forest, twenty leagues south of Camaar, some three years after he left Riva, there was rarely a day that was not nearly consumed by anger. He wanted nothing more than to blast away most of the country and let the people start from scratch but unfortunately his master would not allow him to interfere. He was there to observe and learn not to start a crusade that would surely fail.

With the exceptions of the two major cities of Vo Wacune and Vo Astur as well as a few small settlements, the forest was primarily a haven for criminals and runaway serfs. People that had no real way to make a living and very little to loose. It took only three attacks by bandits before he abandoned his horse, taking only his most personal possessions, and continued his journey in flight. He spent the past three years filled with utter contempt for the Arends, an emotion he nearly cultivated as a means of staying out of a depression over the loss of Beldaran, and he wanted nothing more than to get this part of his journey over with.

While peasants were looked down upon by those in power in all corners of the world, Arends seemed to take it to extremes, as they apparently do with everything else. It was no wonder the country was in a constant state of civil war when stupidity was clearly at the core of their very being. They were quick to anger, waged blood feuds at the slightest hint of offence, real or imagined, and most annoyingly, in Harry's opinion, loved to romanticize every aspect of war. Any other soldier, the world over, would tell you with certainly that there is nothing romantic about a battlefield but the Arends, primarily knights and career soldiers, didn't see it that way. They looked at war as if it were a contest, a game to be played and ultimately won by the most skilled of the combatants. To them it was all about courage and nobility. The serfs were thrown into battle by their lords first to save the knights for a more _glorious_ charge. If they were all slaughtered, who cares, they served their purpose and they could always find others to work their land for them. The whole society disgusted him.

His first major stop was Vo Wacune and like he had been told, it looked much like a city out of a fairy tale. Surrounded by the Arendish Forest the immaculate lanes of stately buildings of marble and gold gilded gates seemed almost surreal. There were numerous statues and fountains that were obviously painstakingly crafted by masters. In the back of his mind he was reminded of a memory from long ago, a description of a place called Rivendell from some story but he could not recall the details. In fact, the only unsightly blemish he could find was the presence of the Wacite Arends themselves.

He spent four days in an inn on the edge of the city as he took in the sights with as little human interaction as possible and it did absolutely nothing to change his opinion of the race in general. They all had the same lack of common sense as any other he had come across before and the almost heavenly music that was being played or sung almost constantly lost a great deal of its splendor when seeing some idiotic knight in rather primitive plate armor kneeling in the street as he spouted out the most horrendous poetry he had ever heard to giggling ladies that watched from an overhead balcony. It was an answer to his silent prayers when a small contingent of the Grand Duke's soldiers marched into the inn inquiring about his room number. It was mere moments after he heard the question from the back stairwell that he had all his belonging gathered and he flew out the window in a southerly direction.

He had no idea what the Duke wanted of him but he didn't care. It could have been the reputation he had as a 'rogue' for his various relationships or it could have been something as innocent as being expected to pay a courtesy visit to the palace. Someone chosen as a Disciple of Aldur held at least some standing in the eyes of most of the western kingdoms so it was not outside the bounds of reality that this duke would expect him to make a social visit of it. Whatever the reason, he didn't care. He had no intention of being subjected to his 'hospitality' whether it was among his court or in his dungeons. In fact he was more inclined to kill the man rather than speak to him. He had been on the move for two days when he received an unexpected visitor.

Shortly after drifting off to sleep he inexplicably found himself in his master's tower. He had spoken to Aldur many times since first arriving in this world but it had been many years since he had called him to this tower, where he had always felt at peace. That could only mean that whatever he had to speak to him about was weighing heavily on his mind.

"My Lord." Harry greeted respectfully as he took the seat directly across from his master. As the god looked up into his eyes, he had to suppress a groan at the conflicting emotions he saw. This was not good at all. "Alright, since whatever brought you into my head this evening is obviously a pretty weighty matter, lets just go ahead and skip the usual 'catch-up' and get right to it." Despite the nature of his visit, Aldur couldn't help but smile at his youngest disciple. He had never encountered a being who would speak in such a way to a god before and Belhaldar did so on a regular basis. His blunt and informal manner was quite refreshing in a way, it almost allowed him to forget about the heavy burdens he had to carry for a short while.

His encounter with Torak was as amusing as it was worrisome. That a mere mortal would treat him in such a manner certainly enraged his brother. Thinking along this line brought up the thought of Belhaldar's behavior when he inevitably had to meet UL. It took a great deal of inner strength to hide his mirth at that particular thought. While his father surely knew a great deal about the young man, he had never had occasion to interact with him before. It was certain to be an enlightening experience, especially considering there was sure to be a horde of Ulgos present as well and they were nothing if not fanatical about their religious obligations. They may very well take his words and actions as a vicious insult. All in all, Aldur was sure that that would shape up to be a very interesting visit. Unfortunately, now was not the time for such thoughts.

"My Son, I can but hope that thou shall forgive me for guiding thou towards thine intended course. It is known to many that the Universe chooses her instruments from among those capable of carrying out the tasks which she has set for them, most notably are thy new found brothers." Harrys simply nodded in understanding and a little relief. He had wondered for years now exactly what was expected of him considering the tasks that had been set for his brothers. The twins for example, were their primary researchers, studying all available information that was brought to them.

Beldin was their eyes and ears, in Mallorea, even more so than Harry. His deformities had the useful effect of making people believe he was feeble minded as well, a belief he built upon by acting the part. As a result he could move about gathering information and while people would certainly notice him, they wouldn't think him a threat. And Belgarath was obviously the leader of their little group. His primary focus was the western continent, setting events in motion that may not bare fruit for centuries to come as well as keeping the Alorns on a short leash. The last thing they needed was for the Alorns to get excited and launch an all out war at the wrong time. Though he didn't like her one bit, Harry was kind of interested to see what chore got dropped into Polgara's lap. Figuring that he had waited long enough, Aldur began to explain.

Four days later, Harry, as a hawk, sat atop the walls of Vo Astur, seat of power of the Grand Duke of the Asturians. For the last few days he had kept watch on the various guards, memorizing their patterns and habits. During this time, he had found that while Vo Astur was a great deal more rustic than the immaculate Vo Wacune and the citizens did not speak as formally, they still had that annoying stupidity and glorious image of warfare that every other Arend possessed. Also, unlike their Wacite cousins, the Asturians were not particularly fond of the notion of knights in full plate armor, preferring instead to focus on archery. Despite his rapidly growing contempt for anything associated with the country, Harry had to admit that they were probably the finest archers he had ever seen. While he had tried his hand with the weapon, he found that he wasn't particularly comfortable with it.

Sensing a presence approaching behind him, Harry gathered his will and he slowly faded from view before transforming back to human form. Mere moments later, Lorin, Duke of Astur, stepped out onto the battlements with his guards spreading out behind him, casting their eyes in every possible direction. Lightly hopping off of the wall, Harry silently approached, weaving passed the watching soldiers. Not long after he first emerged atop the wall, guards in various other positions turned to salute their duke and that was when Harry made his move.

For a well kept man of about thirty five, the aristocrat wasn't particularly nimble or light on his feet. It just took a moderately firm shove to send him over the edge to fall the sixty feet to the ground where he landed with a muffled thump. Much to Harry's surprise, despite the shock he was probably feeling about his impending death, the man didn't make a sound throughout the whole ordeal, which would certainly go a long way in convincing those soldiers and citizens looking on from various points that the man had simply committed suicide. While he didn't much like Arends and wouldn't feel bad if they were killed, Harry didn't really want the Duke's personal guard to be accused of, and executed for, a crime that he committed. As things stood, there were numerous witnesses that could attest that the guards had nothing to do with the man's fall, so his conscious was clear. However, if the simple minded fools insist on being executed for failing in their duties to protect their charge, even from himself, to compensate for their wounded sense of honor, that was their own damn business and, once again, Harry's conscious was clear.

As he winged his way through the trees, leaving Vo Astur far behind him, Harry was surprised at how detached he felt concerning his actions. Sure, he had killed countless Grolims and various other Malloreans that got in his way, but this was the first time he had deliberately killed someone that was supposed to be an ally in the fight against Torak.

While the various factions within Arendia despised each other greatly and almost constantly worked to destroy each other, Lorin hated the Wacites even more than he hated the Mimbrates and intended to try to forge an alliance with the Duke of Vo Mimbre in an effort to crush the Wacites once and for all. While in the future such an effort would be necessary to bring Arendia under one ruler, now was not that time. The Wacites still had much to offer. What, Harry didn't know or even care. In his opinion, the Arends had nothing to offer the world around them.

Whatever the reason, Chaldan seemed to understand the problems that currently plagued his people and approached Aldur to seek a solution to the current problem. Apparently he didn't want to have to kill one of his leaders nor did he feel comfortable delegating the job to an Arend so low and behold he came up with the brilliant idea to ask his oldest brother to _loan _him Belhaldar's services to resolve the matter. Apparently, the idea of talking to the fool of a duke himself and setting him straight never occurred to the god.

Sadly, Harry seemed to be this _Strength of the Gods_ that Belgarath was talking about in that stupid prophecy. According to Aldur, he would be cursed to be stuck with just about every dirty job that the gods either didn't feel like doing themselves or didn't trust their own people to handle for them. While the thought was kind of flattering in a strange sense, he was also aware that it was probably going to cause him no end of headaches.

Those headaches began sooner than he imagined. As he road out of the southern reaches of the Arendish forest on a horse he had stolen from a sleeping bandit, he was confronted with a contingent of Mimbrate Knights that had apparently been sent out to _offer _him the hospitality of the Duke of Mimbre. The twelve men were, like the Wacites, adorned with primitive suits of plate armor, even going to far as to armor their horses. While the breeding of horses in the last few decades has produced better results, they were still rather small and the weight of all that armor plus the Knight mounted on their backs made the exhausted animals look rather pathetic. The riders didn't seem to notice as they sat in their saddles trying to look as impressive as possible, one hand clutching the reins that also held their shield and the other holding long lances. Harry thought that they looked rather ridiculous.

Harry growled silently to himself in annoyance. Personal interaction with the Mimbrates was something he was hoping to avoid but neither did he want to kill these knights or make a run for it. Blowing them off would certainly be seen as a slight against their duke and that could prove to cause a great many problems later on. At some point, he would certainly have to work with Mimbrates and Arends of any kind can hold a grudge for centuries. Dealing with an Arend that felt that you showed them dishonor was more irritating than when they were in a good mood.

"Lord Belhaldar," The lead knight saluted. "I trust thine journey through the treacherous forest has left you unmolested?"

With a heavy mental sigh, and taking great care to hide his true feelings about them, Harry fell in alongside them and began the journey towards Vo Mimbre. The Mimbrates, unlike their northern cousins, cut back the vast expanse of the Arendish Forest in the southern reaches of Arendia simply because mounted knights needed open land to operate more effectively. Surprisingly astute for the near brain dead race.

Shortly before their prized city came into view, their party stopped and Harry was informed that the Duke himself was awaiting them so he might want to change into something more 'appropriate'. In truth, he didn't really care what any Arend thought about him or how he was dressed but neither did he feel like arguing the point any. Grunting in agreement, Harry slid out of his saddle and retrieved a shrunken trunk from his pocket where he kept his more formal clothing. In this case, it was simply his long scarlet red and gold stitched sleeveless tunic that went over his chain mail shirt. The tunic reached down to just passed his knees and both its materials and the elaborate design of some unknown bird surrounded by flame on his chest, spoke of great wealth while the chain mail armor, the well crafted sword belted around his waist and Harry's overall demeanor gave the impression of a capable warrior. This image would certainly be more than enough to force the Duke of Vo Mimbre to take him seriously as both a fellow noble and knight as opposed to Belgarath who seemed to delight in projecting the belief to all those around him that he is nothing more than a shiftless vagabond. Truthfully, it was an image that wasn't far from reality.

Harry had to stifle a snort when they crested the final hill on their journey and the knights gave a collective sigh of pride as they gazed at the city on the banks of the River Arend. He swore he even saw tears in the eyes of some. Shaking his head, Harry looked down at what the Mimbrates hailed as the Golden walls of Mimbre. While from a distance, and in the bright sunlight of mid-afternoon, one could draw such a comparison, but as you got closer, the dull yellow of the stone used became clear and Harry found it sad that they found it so beautiful, even when they were looking at it up close. Gazing at it for too long actually made his stomach turn.

Though he probably would not have used such an unsightly stone to build such a city, he had to admit that it was formidable nonetheless. The Asturians and the Wacites would certainly need a great deal of support from other western kingdoms if they hoped to overrun the city and defeat the Mimbrates entirely unless, of course, the Mimbrates got stupid. Well, stupider, anyway. He didn't think even an Arend could be brain dead enough to lose that fortress to other equally stupid Arends.

After finding an escort of knights waiting for him at the edge of the forest, Harry hadn't bothered holding out hope that he could enter the city quietly but he was still very surprised at the size of the reception waiting for him. It seemed that a large portion of the Mimbrate nobility had journeyed to their capital for the event. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he simply road through the gates and into the courtyard trying to look as imposing as possible.

XXX

With tears streaming down her face, Hermione Granger ran through the trees that lay to the east of the Spanish villa that her parents had rented for their holiday vacation. She did all that she could to ignore the burning pain that shot through the right side of her abdomen with each pounding step, the result of a large shard of glass from a broken window. She had never been particularly good at stealth, and the darkened woods didn't leave her much opportunity to be choosy about where she placed her feet so the resulting noise merely gave her added incentive to keep moving as fast as she could, occasionally flinching and ducking in panic when the light of a spell came too close. For the first time since she met him, she actually began cursing Harry's name. He should be here helping her, protecting her, like he always had.

It had been roughly two and a half weeks now since Harry's disappearance and she had been hoping that this holiday would give her ample opportunity to distract her mind with other pursuits. That had actually worked to some degree for the first two days but everything had come crashing down shortly after her father had left to have a look at some of the local casinos. The Death Eaters arrived around nine o'clock and attacked without warning. Her mother was killed almost instantly, causing Hermione to panic, sending her into _fight or flight_ mode. At first she tried fighting before her more rational mind reasserted itself. She knew she couldn't possibly hope to defeat nine Death Eaters on her own so she quickly jumped through the nearest window and began running as fast as she could.

She didn't know how long she had been moving, seconds, minutes, hours, it all blurred into one big nightmare that she desperately tried to wake from. She had absolutely no time to react as she caught the movement of a dark figure out of the corner of her eye before she felt a firm hand clasp tightly over her mouth just a microsecond before an arm snaked around the torso, pinning her arms to her side. In no time at all, she was dragged down to the ground in a single rough movement. She frantically tried to free herself but she found her legs firmly pressed to the ground by that of her attacker, leaving her with absolutely no room for movement.

"_Hold still you stupid girl!"_ A familiar, and surprisingly welcome, voice commanded quietly into her right ear. "Now, don't move and be silent, do you understand?" Hermione gave a barely noticeable nod before Severus Snape released his hold before slowly standing and repositioning himself against the tree he had been hiding behind as the girl ran past. With the sounds of quick footsteps steadily getting louder, Hermione looked up just it time to see the potions master step into the path of the Death Eaters and lash out with his right hand. Instead of firing off any number of spells that would have been useful in such a situation, she was slightly sicken to see the small curved blade that he held slice into the lead Death Eater's neck. Forgoing conventional weapons after his first kill, Snape simply grabbed the second, and final, wizard in a headlock as he looked down at his fallen comrade in shock as he twitched upon the ground. With a deft jerk, an audible crunching sound seemed to echo off the trees as his head was twisted into a very unnatural angle.

A hour later, the Order of the Phoenix gathered at Number 12 Grimmauld Place to discuss the supreme disaster that had been brought about that night. Dumbeldore sat at the head of the table and looked out over the members of the Order with a sad and weary look in his eye. It seemed that Voldemort got tired of the press finding out on their own so he had some of his supporters within the Ministry contact that _The Daily Prophet_ about Harry's disappearance, and presumed death. The article hit the news that very morning and the result was rather predictable. Nearly complete chaos.

Despite the situation, at times Dumbledore had a hard time hiding his amusement at the irony. Just a couple short weeks ago, the wizards and witches of Great Britain were taking shots at Harry from every conceivable angle. Whether doubting his sanity or even questioning whether or not it was actually Harry himself who had killed Cedric Diggory. Now, well, now that they know that Voldemort had indeed returned Harry is back to being a hero, and the _Chosen One_, as the press had labeled him after the Department of Mysteries fiasco, the general populace expected him to continue playing that role. It wasn't the Ministry and its Aurors or Dumbledore and the Order that they expected to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters, no, they seemed to expect Harry to do it single handed so that they and their loved ones could all remain safely hidden away and out of the line of fire.

But with news of his disappearance came near panic. There had been a near riot at the Ministry as hundreds of wizards and witches had shown up looking for answers and demanding that Harry Potter be found. Despite what an outside observer with no prior knowledge of wizarding Britain might come to assume from this turnout, Dumbledore knew perfectly well that it wasn't out of any concern for Harry's wellbeing, not entirely anyway. After all, they had shown a clear and complete disregard for that many times in the past, but rather their society's deep seeded need to push someone else to the forefront, often against their wishes, and hang all of their hopes on him or her. Dumbledore had been there himself in the past and it was only through an act of providence that he didn't bungle the whole thing with Grindlewald. Though he did have his pride, he was not above admitting that his old childhood friend had been a more powerful wizard. His ability to keep up with his adversaries was tested to the limits again with Voldemort's first rise.

This time it was certainly different. He wasn't the one the people were looking to for leadership, and, he admitted to himself, he preferred it that way. Now, they wanted to push a sixteen year old wizard to the forefront of their war, only he wasn't there to accept the charge. There solution? Find him and bring him back to do it. While he knew that Harry was destined to either kill Voldemort or be killed by him, he also knew that if the wizards and witches of Great Britain would actually fight the Death Eaters when they appeared instead of running away, Voldemort would be finished in no time. No matter how many rituals he has performed in his life, no living thing could withstand the combined spell power dozens or even hundreds of wizards. He would be dead without Harry present to deliver the killing blow. Unfortunately he was well aware that that would never happen, at least not in his lifetime. In a society that has literally been hiding from the rest of humanity for centuries, it was perfectly easy for them to justify hiding from other wizards as well.

Albus was pulled out of his thoughts as a teary eyed Molly Weasley entered the kitchen and closed the door behind her. She had no doubt just informed Ms. Granger that they had found her father. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters found him first. He and four other muggles were hit with the killing curse as they exited the casino they had been visiting.

"How is she?" He asked quietly.

"HOW DO YOU THINK SHE IS?" Mrs. Weasley snapped angrily before taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm sorry, Albus, that was uncalled for." She apologized.

"Quite understandable, Molly, given the circumstances." Dumbledore responded sadly before looking around once again. "I think it would be prudent to begin, I'll update Alastor and Kingsley of anything they miss when they arrive. Severus, will you please begin?" Snape nodded stiffly and glared at the majority of those present. After he effectively revealed himself as a spy trying to save Potter it was amazing how many within the Order believed that his usefulness to the organization was at an end and that he should be expelled. He didn't particularly care one way or the other but he made a vow to both Dumbledore and Lily Potter, his first and perhaps only real friend, that he would do all he could to protect her son and he intended to see that vow completed even if he had to work with people he despised. People who convinced themselves that they were making a difference by doing absolutely nothing but sitting around and talking.

"As you are all no doubt aware, I was dispatched to France to retrieve Granger and her family. When I arrived Mrs. Granger was already dead, her husband was not on scene and two Death Eaters began pursuing their daughter into the forest bordering their villa. I got ahead of them and eliminated the threat before bringing the girl here. The French Aurors found her father dead about half an hour later." The potions master explained simply before going quiet again.

"Eliminated the threat? You mean you killed them?" Dedalus Diggle demanded, outraged.

"If you people want your enemies both alive and free, you should have sent someone else. You may wish to continue making the same mistakes that lead to nothing but disaster but I will not give a Death Eater the opportunity to buy back his freedom from a corrupt Ministry or simply allow the Dark Lord opportunity to break them out of Azkaban once again. Only a dead Death Eater is no longer dangerous."

"That brings us to our next order of business." Dumbledore broke in, not wanting yet another argument about the morality of killing your enemies. Both Severus and Alastor were in the belief that using lethal force was not only understandable, but recommended when dealing with the Death Eaters. Dumbledore, himself, knew that such force was sometimes unavoidable but should only be used as a last resort. The rest of the Order, however, believed that killing would make them no different than the Death Eaters themselves. This issue often led to serious contention among their group.

"Voldemort, of course, used the panic created by the news of Harry's disappearance to take advantage of the Aurors security work at the Ministry to launch another assault on Azkaban. Nymphadora, will you please give us your report?" Even before he finished the question, he had to quickly duck a rather painful looking spell that was cast by the young woman. He looked at the enraged Auror in surprise.

"I have asked you repeatedly not to use that bloody name." She spat out without lowering her wand. "This is your final warning. At least show me enough respect to follow that very simple request." Dumbledore nodded stupidly as everyone else was looking at Tonks in shock. After a few moments to get herself under control, she sat back down.

"The Dark Lord and most of his Death Eaters stormed Azkaban with very little resistance about an hour and a half ago. The few Dementors that were still present on the island simply let them pass unheeded and the twenty seven Aurors and guards were all killed. They fought hard but were eventually over run with superior numbers. After clearing out any resistance, the Death Eaters broke into three main groups. The first, led by the Dark Lord himself, assaulted the wards on the maximum security wing to retrieve his captured Death Eaters. The second, led by Amycus Carrow, would attempt to recruit more from the inmates in medium security. Any who refused to take the Mark was killed immediately.

"The third group, a small four man team, led by Augustus Rookwood, had only one goal. They were to reacquire Bellatrix Lestrange from minimum security."

"I KNEW IT!" Sturgis Podmore shouted. "It was all nothing more than a set up to keep us pointed in the wrong direction. I knew she would never turn on her master."

"WELL YOU'RE WRONG, YOU FOOL!" Hestia Jones took a moment to calm down before continuing. "When we showed up with over a hundred Aurors and Unspeakables, the Dark Lord ordered a withdrawal, thinking that everything went according to plan. With the wards down they managed to portkey away without losing anyone else. A quick sweep of the prison confirmed that everyone in both medium and maximum security were either taken or killed. Most of those in minimum security were also killed along with the two guards that were stationed permanently outside of Lestrange's cell. The four Death Eaters sent to collect her were also dead when we arrived and Bellatrix was sitting calmly in her cell as if nothing had happened. The prisoners further down the block from her also seemed to be alright.

"A review of the surveillance spells in place confirmed that Rookwood led his team into the block and quickly killed the two guards before killing each of the prisoners on his way to Lestrange. Once they reached her, she seemed to cooperate, showing no aggression but once Rookwood sent two of the others to kill the rest, she easily overpowered him and took his wand. After that it was only a matter of five or six seconds before all four Death Eaters were dead. She then dropped the wand on the floor, calmly walked back into her cell and closed the door behind her. As when she turned herself in, she was questioned under Veritaserum and we found no evidence of deception on her part." Just as she finished, Kingsley Shacklebolt stormed into the kitchen, looking a little sick to his stomach.

"Kingsley…"

"Albus, I think we should talk in private." Nodding his agreement, Dumbledore felt dread in the pit of his stomach. Anything that could affect the unflappable Auror in such a way was certainly not good news. Everyone else at the table seemed to have the same thoughts. "It would also probably be best if Snape were to join us." As the three men walked out of the room, whispered conversations started up all along the table as everyone put forth one theory after another over what else had gone wrong.

"Alright, Kingsley, what is the matter?" Dumbledore asked after putting up numerous privacy wards around the sitting room.

"Alastor is dead." He said simply, causing both Dumbledore and Snape to stare at him in shock.

"What?" Albus managed to choke out.

"I sent him a message just after I received word that Madam Bones' residence was under attack. Myself and several others got there in time to repel the attack after her bodyguards were injured. Moody never showed up and wouldn't answer any of my messages. After securing Amelia, I went to Moody's home and found him dead. Whoever did that to him was an animal, Albus. I've never seen anything like it. Here." Thrusting a small packet into Snape's hands, Kingsley began pacing around the room, trying to settle his stomach.

"What is it?" The potions master asked as he pulled out several photos.

"Photographs of the attacker. They were copied out of the muggle security system Alastor had wired into his home. We were hoping you could tell us who it is." Snape began shuffling through the pictures with Dumbledore looking over his shoulder. Most of them didn't give a good view but one had a straight view of the man's face. Dumbledore gasped quietly while Snape paled.

"It's Charles Rosier." Both Snape and Dumbledore announced at once.

"Any relation to Evan Rosier?"

"Yes, he's Evan's father." Dumbledore said quietly as Snape sank into a nearby armchair, lost in his own thoughts. While Kingsley wasn't quite old enough to have been and Auror in the first war, there were many Death Eaters whose crimes were studied at the Auror Academy. To teach the new Aurors how different people with different personalities are motivated to perform various crimes. It was thought that knowing how criminals think gave them an advantage when trying to capture them. A strategy that had been a fixture in muggle law enforcement for a very long time but it was only in the last fifteen years or so that the Ministry decided that the benefits outweighed the distaste of using methods designed by muggles.

One of their _case studies_ was on Evan Rosier. While he wasn't the most powerful or most intelligent wizard around, he more than made up for those shortcomings with sheer brutality and a complete disregard for his own safety. He simply didn't care whether he lived or died and as such he never once hesitated, snatching victory out of the most overwhelming odds. It scared the hell out of many Aurors during the first war to see some lunatic charge their positions by himself, much like a Viking berserker from centuries ago. If this Charles Rosier was anything like his son, he was surely a very dangerous man even if you didn't take what he had done to Moody into account.

"Exactly how dangerous is this man, how would he compare to Evan Rosier?"

"He doesn't compare." Snape scoffed. "He is many times worse than his son ever could have hoped to be."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "Charles and Voldemort were close companions during their time at Hogwarts and remained together afterwards. I suspect they saw a kindred spirit in each other. They were side by side until Voldemort was defeated, then he just disappeared."

"And how is it that he wasn't in the Death Eater files in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I must have gone through those papers numerous times and I don't think I've seen that name once."

"That's because the man is a behind the scenes sort. By the time the Dark Lord brought his campaign out in to the public eye, very few Death Eaters ever even saw him much less knew who he was. While Voldemort is more magically powerful and more charismatic, Charles is smarter. Not to say that the Dark Lord is stupid but he just doesn't have the skill for strategy as evidenced by his rather elaborate and convoluted schemes over the last few years. Schemes that ultimately failed more often than not. Charles is the one that engineered the first campaign. Everything they did had a purpose and as long as they stuck with his plans, they were completely successful probably about ninety percent of the time. With Rosier back, Death Eater attacks will become simpler, more frequent and much more effective.

"I must agree with Severus' assessment." Dumbledore nodded in resignation. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, there is. Apart from the fact that now this attack seems to be in retribution for his son's death at Alastor's hand, the primary goal was to gather as much information on this man Belar. Or more precisely, is he really in contact with Harry Potter. For the most part, he held out quite well under both torture and Veritaserum but they were wearing him down. Eventually he started giving bits and pieces of information. However from what we know, this information was completely fabricated."

"How do you mean?"

XXX

"Playtime is over, Tom." Charles chuckled as he walked into Voldemort's throne room. "We have business to discuss." Reluctantly, the Dark Lord canceled the Cruciatus curse that had Lucius Malfoy flopping around on the floor. Around the room, several other Death Eaters breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that they may have just dodged a bullet. While over all the day had been an overwhelming success with the release of the prisoners in Azkaban, the smaller attacks on the Bones, Longbottom and Weasley residences didn't go as planned and the party sent after the Lovegood girl in Sweden couldn't even locate her. And those sent after Bellatrix were unable to subdue her, getting themselves killed in the process. No, despite their initial success, this was not to be a night of celebration as Lucius was finding out. The loss of the Malfoy fortune has no doubt left the man expendable and the rest of them would no doubt be punished severely for botching what was supposed to be simple raids on easy targets. Not one of them could complain that the planning was flawed or that they didn't have enough support, because it wasn't and they did. They failed on their own and would certainly suffer for it.

"Very well. Lucius, we will have another little chat soon and, for your sake, I sincerely hope that you have learned the price of failure, you will not get another chance." With that parting comment, Voldemort followed his colleague out of the room and into a well furnished study.

"Judging by the giddy look on your face, am I to assume that you have succeeded?"

"Of course I have." Charles stated harshly with indignation. "Moody is no longer among the living and I even managed to procure that information you wanted."

"Really," Voldemort leaned forward with interest. "So, who is he and what precisely is he doing here?"

"Unfortunately it is nothing too interesting. It seems the goblins learned of Potter's disappearance and intended to use it for their own gain. This Belar person was to be put in charge of Potter's accounts, hopefully legally by claiming his appointment to that position by Potter himself. I suspect that they had clever forgeries of the necessary documents in case someone like Dumbledore refused to recognize him right off but just about everyone present was too shocked to object. If this course proved impossible, they would have moved forward with a goblin account manager overseeing his funds.

"The whole purpose was to get control of the Potter vaults and sometime in the near future, have Potter declared legally dead, transferring ownership of the vaults and their contents over to the goblins since Potter has no living magical relatives and has never written out a will of his own. Black's will literally destroyed their plans. Not only did the fool leave Potter the Black estate but he managed to wrangle away Malfoy's as well. Even this being the case, it would seem that the goblins had no interest in taking away your funding so they intended to leave those two fortunes alone while keeping that of the Potter's for themselves. However, Black's lawyer made that impossible. By requesting to see the Potter family scroll, they were able to confirm that Potter was still alive so legally they can't do anything with his vaults until his status changes.

"Given Mad Eye's penchant for the dramatic, I wasn't going to take everything he said at face value so I confirmed his story from three goblins I captured after killing him. I suppose that Moody could have engineered this hoax with the goblin's aid but I haven't been able to think of a purpose for a deception of that kind."

"Perhaps he really is in contact with Potter?"

"It's possible, but unlikely." Charles shrugged. "If that is indeed the case, the whole point would have been to keep it a secret. If that is so, then why did the man walk into a room with several of your supporters and admit as much. Doing so has made him a priority when we didn't even know he existed until recently and now I have to come up with some contingency plans in case Potter does return. If Belar has access to him then it is not outside the bounds of possibility to suggest that he could bring Potter back here, but he gave up any element of surprise that would have been working for them if he had simply kept his mouth shut. Of all the theories, Potter's money being the motivating factor is the one that makes the most sense."

"What would you suggest we do about it?"

"For the time being, we do nothing. As I said, I'll come up with some backup plans but until anything spectacular happens, such as Potter finding a way to return, we should not deviate from our plans. It will be simple enough to tweak the details a bit for any unforeseen situations that may crop up. Now, what do you intend to do with those failures out there?"

"Once my more capable followers are trained up a little better, they shall all die. In fifty years, this is the first time one of our collaborations has suffered so much failure and the blame rests solely with them. We will make a very public example out of them so that the others will be well motivated to improve."

"Good. I find it ridiculous that those men, supposedly the best the magical world has to offer, were bested by the likes of the Weasleys and their ilk. Death is the only option for them and if they were smart they would realize that and run."

"You always did love the chase." Voldemort smirked.

"It makes it more interesting and so much more satisfying when you finally track them down."

"But it does take time that would be better served doing something more productive."

"The simple pleasures in life always come with a cost. And time is something we have in abundance."

XXX

Three days. It took three bloody days for the assembled nobility to finish all of their ridiculous poetic speeches. It seemed that every waking minute was spent in the Mimbrate Duke's hall attending one feast after another, giving everyone their chance to formally welcome a disciple of Aldur into their city. While these speeches were quite flattering at times, there was no mistaking the hostility every time Harry was speaking with one lady or another. No doubt they believed he was trying to seduce half the court. Not that he wouldn't mind trying, of course, but he didn't much feel like fleeing the city after killing several knights.

"Lord Belhaldar." Harry blinked a couple of times before he realized that someone hadn't just mentioned his name in yet another endless speech but that he was being addressed directly. Looking around, every eye was fixed on him as the Duke motioned for him to say a few words. By few words, he no doubt expected for him to speak at great length. With a sigh, Harry stood and looked out over the crowd with a soft expression, all the while wishing he could just kill everyone present but Aldur would certainly not approve and the look of disappointment in his master's eyes had the ability to make him feel like crap for years on end.

"My Lords and Ladies! As I stand before you this night and take in my surroundings, such as your gallant knights and their lovely ladies, with a keen eye, I am greatly reminded of tales of the courage and sacrifice of warriors long since passed, and long since forgotten. Indeed, many of us within this very hall may one day meet this same fate, to give everything we have to a cause of our choosing only to fall at the end of our enemy's sword and our names quickly pass into obscurity. There are those, however, that distinguish themselves to such a degree that they are not only remembered, but pass into legend." Harry paused for a brief moment to take a sip from his goblet and had to bite back a smirk as he saw everyone giving him their undivided attention. Really, Arends were such children.

"In my old homeland, many centuries ago, a young king by the name of Arthur suddenly had power and authority thrust upon him during a time of almost complete darkness. A time when hordes of bandits roamed the land, preying on the innocent. A time when vast armies, fighting for no noble cause but for the mere desire to impose their brutal will upon their neighbors. Though he had no real desire for power and no true ambition to advance only himself, Arthur recognized that the sacred trust and responsibility placed in his hands was far greater than what any one man should have the right to desire, even a king. He knew, as many of his forefathers had forgotten, that he was not meant simply to rule, but to protect and nurture the lands and the people living in them. Darkness covered the land, and Arthur changed all that by bringing together those that once opposed each other and uniting them under a common goal.

"One of his achievements was the construction of the city of Camelot. I know that many of you within this hall may find this unbelievable, but Camelot was more elegant and beautiful than Vo Wacune, but despite its picturesque beauty, its walls were more formidable than even mighty Vo Mimbre." For the next hour, Harry kept talking, reciting a great deal from the various Arthurian legends he had heard as a boy, of course he left out the more fanciful accounts concerning the Holy Grail but that didn't seem to bother his audience any. In fact many of the 'big fearless knights' were on the brink of shedding the tears that were at that very moment pooling in their eyes. It was actually quite amusing.

The women gasped and the Knights leaped to their feet in outrage when he explained the adultery between Lancelot and Guinevere. While many married Arends may desire another, very few would actually allow that desire to develop into a physical relationship. Instead they write poetry and other such nonsense while pining away the days that they were forced to remain separated from their love. Despite their anger at his previous actions, they all seemed to nod in approval when the disgraced knight returned to his king's side for his final battle against Mordred. A battle where, despite victory, both Arthur and Lancelot lost their lives.

"It has now been well over one thousand long years since the death of Arthur, most of his knights and the destruction of Camelot, but even today the tales of their deeds are passed down from father to son, mother to daughter. And while the names of all but a brave few have been lost within the forever changing course of history, let us not forget, that men like Arthur could not have met victory on the field of battle without the brave men that rallied to his banner. Their names are forgotten, yes," Harry continued with a sad nod. "But the greatness of their achievements shall forever withstand the tests of time. Ladies, Gentlemen, too forgotten heroes!" Without a moment's hesitation, everyone stood up as one and raised their goblets in solute. He was by no means a skilled storyteller such as Belgarath, and he had absolutely no desire to become one, but this was one easy way to deal with Arends so Belgarath had insisted that he come up with several to amuse the lesser minds. With luck, he wouldn't ever have to put himself on display like that again.

The following day, as Harry was preparing to leave, he looked across the courtyard to see Actas, one of his captains, sitting astride his horse, looking around with a wary eye. Resting in the man's left hand was his own banner, the design Harry 'borrowed' from his former home, modeled after the Union Jack but black and red being its primary colors as opposed to red and blue. But it was his right hand that drew everyone's attention since the sword he currently held was placed firmly across the neck of the knight standing alongside him, his arm frozen as his own sword was only half free from its scabbard. He smiled as he saw Hedwig sitting on the man's shoulder. It was kind of amusing seeing the bird glaring at the nearby knights, almost daring them to try something stupid.

"Is this something that's going to cause a problem, Actas?" Harry asked with a hint of steel in voice while looking over the steel clad Mimbrate. The man looked pissed but despite his natural hereditary stupidity, he wasn't about to do anything foolish with a sword in such a good position for a killing strike. At the first sound of his voice, Hedwig launched herself into the air and soared over to him, landing gracefully on his outstretched arm.

"No, My Lord. The good knight simply objected to my carrying my sword unsheathed. I'll follow through with my orders and then depart, there's no reason for anyone to engage in any foolishness over such a trivial matter." He stated firmly as he kept watch on all the watching knights who seemed to take insult to their comrade being held in such a way.

"And it didn't occur to you that riding into a city full of knights with sword in hand would certainly draw unwanted attention?"

"My Lord, my mere presence on this continent draws unwanted attention but at least I am ready for a confrontation should one come. My sword has been in hand since my ship landed in Gar OG Nadrak and it will be in my hand until I set foot on Mallorean soil once again."

"Alright, what was so important that anyone, much less one of my captains, would come all this way looking for me?" Harry asked curiously as he and Actas sat in a small conference room that had been made available to them. Short of Torak himself showing up in Anden to take control of the island, his people were more than capable of dealing with any problems themselves.

"Well, Belhaldar, I'm here simply because the Emperor's currier was a coward."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Mako had a deal working with Mal Zeth and once that was concluded a notice had to be sent to you. Instead of heading west from Mal Zeth to deliver it himself as ordered, the little bastard traveled four leagues east until he happened upon us delivering our shipment of cotton. Passed off all the papers and maps to me before taking off again."

"Okay, now that you've explained that, can you get to the point?"

"Well, there are two matters, my friend. First is this." He pulled out a dispatch under the seal of the Emperor himself. Whatever bit of his mind he had thinking of other matters were quickly redirected. While he was sworn to loyalty to the Emperor when in an official capacity in Mallorea, he had not met the current ruler and couldn't think of anything that would require his attention. Unless Urvon or Torak was forcing his hand. But, much to his surprise, it was about a hundred and eighty degrees away from the notification of property seizure he was half expecting.

"What the hell is this Grand Duke business?" Harry demanded incredulously. "Anden is nowhere near big enough to be considered a duchy."

"I told you Mako was making a deal, didn't I? True, Anden is a bit too small for that, however, thanks to some savvy negotiations conducted shortly after you left, you know control a fair piece of Rengel." Actas explained with a slight grin before pulling a map out of his satchel and spreading it out over the table. "Alright, the royal family of Rengel is severely in debt with Mal Zeth and the Emperor has basically promised to execute the lot of them and put someone else on the thrown. King Kamulus was more than willing to agree to just about anything that would save his neck so Mako paid off his debt in exchange for a bit of land."

"How much land?" Harry asked warily.

"About four thousand square miles. We basically control the entire northeast of the country now, including Pannor." It took an awful lot of will power to keep his jaw from dropping. Pannor was one of the biggest ports on the east coast of Mallorea. Being the nearest port to Anden made it especially important to him as well as the rest of Melcena.

"And what will Kamulus expect of me in the future?" Harry asked carefully. To give up that much land, even to save his own neck, the man had to have something else in mind.

"Absolutely nothing. Mako made a point of making that perfectly clear. You will pay your normal annual duties to the crown just like any other nobleman but anything more than that, such as military involvement should it be needed, you are free to turn down or accept as you see fit just as he is under no obligation to help you should a need arise. And as far as Mal Zeth is concerned, you are now the Grand Duke of Pannor as well as the Baron of Anden. Under normal circumstances this transfer of power wouldn't be unacceptable to the rest of the nobility but they have adopted a wait and see attitude since Rengel has been run into the ground the last few generations. Most feel that a change, however small, may have some positive effect. The large 'honorarium' that was sent along with the dispatches to Mal Zeth probably helped in some small way as well. The entire deal nearly emptied your treasury but that was nearly three years ago, so I'm sure it's on its way to recovering by now."

"Are there any plans to develop the rest of this land?"

"I don't know of that many details but I'm certain Mako has plans in place. About twenty miles in from the coast the soil actually gets pretty good so I'm sure they've already begun putting that to use. Unfortunately the land in the north is only good for livestock but they'll think of something to do with it." Harry sighed as he rubbed his hand down his face. Controlling a small island was one thing but he could already feel the headache that will certainly develop the next time he made it to the east.

"You said there were two matters?" He asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear it. Actas looked confused at the sudden change of subject for a moment before shaking it off.

"Ah, yes. Unfortunately, the mines in Gandahar have run dry, not a single gem left in the ground but with this extra land in Rengel, Pannor especially, it shouldn't hurt you at all."

"No, that's something I'll want to replace." He commented quietly as he tried to think of something. He had an awfully lot of people working within those mines, most of the locals as a matter of fact, and he'd prefer to find some other venture to keep them with paying work. People without jobs tend to try their hand at more illegal was of making a living and he had other interests in the area that he didn't want molested by an army of desperate peasants. "What about the Bashida Iron Range?" He asked suddenly, the beginnings of an idea forming.

"What about it?" Actas asked with growing suspicion. The Bashida Range was one of the largest iron deposits in southeastern Mallorea but the Gandahar government had never exploited it. They simply take what they need and left it at that. Everyone that had tried to buy the land had been refused outright.

"I figure if we can get the royals' cooperation, we can move our miners in and really go to work. I figure, we give them all the iron they need plus thirty five percent of any profits. They would have to be fools to turn that down."

"That's… generous." Actas said slowly, not seeing the big picture. He was a soldier, not a merchant.

"That's merely to reel them in. I'm thinking long term here, very long term. These people are probably the most disorganized bunch I have ever met. They rarely put any business arrangements down in writing unless they're dealing with another royal family and even then it's very sloppy. With each new ruler, I cut the profits a bit, cut back on their shipments of iron until its none at all. I figure I could have complete control of that range within two centuries or so at which point they'll have absolutely no cut of the profits and will actually be paying me handsomely for the iron they had previously been receiving free of charge."

Harry and Actas spoke for a while longer before they both went their separate ways. Actas back to Mallorea, much to his pleasure, and Harry crossed the River Arend and headed south into Tolnedra. Hedwig refused to allow him to go off on his own again and for the first several hours she berated him for his foolish flight over the Great Western Sea. By the end of her rant, Harry was sincerely regretting his decision to spend time in the form of an owl so that he could easily communicate with her. He really did love her but she just wouldn't shut up.

Though he had to admit that even at her worst she was certainly better than most breeds of birds. He found that he actually enjoyed the company of most raptors, except hawks. Though he enjoyed flying in that form, a hawk was actually a rather stupid bird and never really had much to say. Seedeaters, as most carnivorous birds called them, were simply insufferable. They did nothing but blather on about their nests and their eggs and were constantly showing off.

After she had been with him in Mallorea for several years, Harry became slightly concerned by the fact that she didn't seem to be aging. She simply told him that she had no desire to grow old. This got him really concerned as he remembered Beldaran's story about how her parents had first met. That Poledra was originally a wolf that had actually lived for centuries before figuring out how to change her form and that she stuck around because she was determined to make Belgarath her mate. Harry was certainly concerned that the same might be happening to him but thankfully Hedwig informed him that she was an owl and intended to remain one and owls did not mate with humans. It simply wasn't proper. She intended to remain with _**her Harry**_ because he tended to get into too much trouble if she wasn't around to keep him in line. Despite the fact that she seemed to think he needed twenty four hour a day minding, Harry honestly couldn't remember feeling more relieved at any other point in his life than he did at that very moment. The idea of waking up to being sexually harassed by a woman that was once an owl was not a welcome thought.

XXX

Ok, that's it for chapter eight. A little heads up, myself and Padfootjr feels that it would be best to skip ahead after this chapter to get to the real heart of the story, specifically the events surrounding The Belgariad series. So the next chapter will start off with Harry's brief return to earth before he and a few others join Belgarath and the others in what will be the final confrontation with Torak. The _history_ between now and then will be explained through various conversations and stories, much like in the Belgariad.

A more detail concerning the other western kingdoms will be in those chapter since they will be traveling through them throughout most of the story from that point on and I will go into the workings of Mallorea in more depth if I choose to continue this fic into The Mallorean series of books as well.

Now, a few explanations. First, many have asked both Padfootjr and I why Bellatrix was depicted as she was in the beginning of the story, and they'll certainly wonder why after reading this chapter as well. The answer to that is simple. Padfootjr has a bit of a fascination with her character and likes to use her in many different roles. Whether she was genuinely repentant as she is in this, she was still a complete psycho in Lord of Azkaban she just changed her allegiance to Harry and in The New Order she was actually a spy that worked her way into Voldemort's inner circle to help facilitate his defeat. While I usually like reading her character as crazy, this was originally Padfootjr's fic so I will stick with the various ideas he had in mind for it.

UPDATES: Now that we are getting to the purpose of the story, it should be much easier to write so updates should be more frequent. Like with my other stories, I tend to write ahead, working on various things that won't appear until much further along in the story. So there will be times when an update takes a while as I work on my other fics, school and work but there will also be times when two, three or even four chapters are posted in quick succession.

Since this fic was quite popular when Padfootjr was writing it, I certainly wouldn't want to spoil it for everyone that has been following it since it first came out so if you have any questions, concerns or ideas on how to make it better, leave a review or send me an e-mail and I'll try to get back to you.


End file.
